Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Thanksgiving Post-Morten, Part II

Used my parents' minivan two of the four days they were away.  In exchange, I usually get it washed.

After I got out of the minivan, I notcied the driver-side front tire was flat.  Had I been driving on that all day?  I didn't stop the guys before they drove it onto the conveyor belt, so I helplessly honed in on that tire as it the vehicle was pushed through the cleaning process.  I hoped to God and Buddha that it didn't pop on its way through.

It didn't, but when it was rolled out for final wiping down, the rim was barely above the ground.  The workers there didn't catch the almost-flat tire, but thankfully they had an air pump.  One of them was really helpful in pumping up the tire, trying to find any nails jammed into it, and checking if the air came out of it when I backed up the minivan.  No air came out; he said it just didn't have air pumped into it for a long time.

I had to go to the hardware store, and I wanted to use the van to drop off my things in storage, but I had to keep an eye out on the tire in case air was coming out of it.  So I pressed into the tire when I was out in public and checked the air pressure on it when I was at home.  It was the same, blessed be, so I trusted it enough to drive it down to the airport to pick up Mother.

While I was checking the air pressure of the tire in question, I went ahead and checked the other four.  They were all different from each other, and all of them weren't close to the recommended pressure.  (Although the recommended pressure wasn't exactly listed on the side of the door -- probably because the tires on the van aren't recommended for the van.)  I decided I'd normalize them all by going to the gas station and either putting air into or taking air out of the other three tires.  I had to gas up the minivan anyway.

So, about an hour and a half before I had to get to the airport (I built in so much time because I wanted to go to the strip club before heading down to MSP), I went to the gas station.  I went from tire to tire, saving the problem tire for last.  But when I got to it, I didn't see a cap on the valve.

I swore that there was a cap when I checked it.  Is a missing valve cap the reason it was losing air in the first place?  Did somebody take it like they did my mirror last week?  My mind races.  It has to make a decision yet doesn't have a lot of time to make it.  I have never been good at thinking under pressure, and I cursed God and Buddha for making me do it when I need to pick up Mother and when I want to see some titty.

The decision was: Should I go back to the house and try and look for a cap in the driveway in case I took it off and didn't put it back on, or should I buy one at the store (assuming that there was one to buy)?  I hate wasting money on something I already have for the sake of expedience, especially in my financial state.  But I gotta go.  Besides, it's dark out -- how the hell am I going find a small black cap in the middle of the night, especially since I need to leave?

The overriding factor was that I didn't want to go back.  So I bit the bullet and went inside to buy a valve cap -- assuming there was one to buy.  I looked around this very small convenience store -- a grocery store this is not; I mean, who comes to a gas station to buy something other than gas? -- and didn't see a valve cap.  That's when I steeled myself for the possibility I had no choice but to go back and find a cap on the driveway -- that is, assuming there was a cap in the first place.

The worker there pointed me back to their "automotive" section, and after some stooping, I find the valve caps, only they were in a package with a tire pressure gauge.  I had to buy the whole thing, and it was $3.  I think there are some people who wouldn't think about buying such a thing on impulse, and more who at least wouldn't mind buying it if they felt they had to.  That's just not me.  You know, I could do a lot with three bucks.  But I bit the bullet, bought the damn thing, took out the valve cap, screwed it on the tire, and away I went.

Checked the pressure at the stripclub, and it was fine.  So I felt a tad better as I went to pick up Mother.  But I had to know: Did I make the right decision?  Am I paranoid in thinking there was never a cap?  There had to be a cap -- I remember screwing one on or seeing the guy at the car wash screw it on, I just forgot to screw it on myself!!!  So I told Mother about the leaky tire, and even though I did want to check it one last time, I really wanted to say out once I got home to find the goddamn valve cap.

I remembered that I had a flashlight in my room.  And it wasn't really trying to find a needle in a haystack; three grand waves of the flashlight on the driveway, and I saw this lonely, erect valve cap, not blown away by the wind like I feared, just standing there right where I left it.  So I guess after coming back from the self-storage, I checked out the tire pressure and rushed inside the house without putting it back on.  I hate myself when I do that.  That justifies all the times I go back to my car to make sure I locked the doors.

And so I wasted three bucks on a cap that I just forgot to put back on a tire.  I could have, could have, gone back from the gas station home and looked for it; even with getting a flashlight it wouldn't have been more than, what, five minutes.  But no, I panicked and didn't want to go home because it was cold and I wanted to see some titty.  And now I need to not spend money on other things to make up for this.

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