Big City, Stupid Girl?

I had my tires rotated last weekend. They were approximately 10,000 miles overdue. Perhaps they weren't that much over due, but it was a lot. I digress.

I told them to check out the rear driver's side tire, as it seems to mysteriously lose air. Sometimes it would go weeks, sometimes months, occasionally days, before my lovely computer would ding and tell me to check the tire pressure in the tire lit up on the diagram. As I haven't had my tires rotated since I purchased my lovely car, I certainly haven't taken it in. That's what 7-Eleven is for, right? (Side note, air is not free anywhere but Oklahoma.)

As aforementioned, I told the friendly salesman all about my tire woes and requested he have them look for a problem, which is why I was surprised this morning when my computer dinged and the diagram lit up, telling me to check the tire pressure in the driver's side front tire. I decided I'd deal with it later. I drove to work. I drove home from work. I then drove to a movie. At 11:40 p.m., while on my way home, I decided to finally deal with the issue. I went to the nearest 7-Eleven, went inside, bought a gauge (I've gone through 2 in the last few months), requested change so I could pay the $1 fee to use the air pump, and was slightly freaked out when the sales guy attempted to flirt with me. "So, I haven't seen you around. Are you just passing through?" "Yes, just passing through." I wasn't about to tell him I lived 5 minutes up the road. "Let me know if you need any help." "Oh, I think I've got it, thanks!" I hurry to my car, drive it around to the air pump, only to discover that someone has jammed something in the coin slot. I must find another place to put air into my tire. I also realize why my tire is low: the dudes at the tire place didn't put my cap back on the tire. So my car has gone 300+ miles without the cap on that particular one. No wonder why it was low a week later.

I went to a Texaco on my way home, and literally prayed that I wouldn't have anyone put a gun to my head. I don't live in an unsafe part of town. In fact, where I live is a very nice part of town. But that doesn't mean there weren't gang bangers at the Texaco filling up their sweet ride. I hurried as fast as I could, capped my tire (luckily 2 extras came with the gauge I had just purchased), jumped in my car, locked the doors, and went home.

I really should have just done this on my way home from work.