Apparently my life motto is, “Alex Eason: taking on all of the world’s car problems so you don’t have to.” As a newly anointed expert on the subject of flat tires, here’s my how-to guide for dealing with them.
1. Panic
You learned how to change a tire once in high school, but oh are those glory days long gone, so you’re SOL up the creek on this one, sans paddle if you know what I mean. Call your dad, obviously. Then lament your misfortune while you cry, of course. Be heavily disappointed in yourself for reinforcing sexist stereotypes, but then remember that every guy you’ve ever dated/every guy you’ve ever worked for/every guy you’ve ever met can’t change his own tire either and feel smugly vindicated that their bitch asses are just as useless as yours.
2. Lie on the ground and give up, because there is clearly no point to living anymore.
3. Call roadside assistance
Because you’re a pathetic excuse for an adult. This is why you get AAA. Or, you could rely on the roadside assistance that came with your car, and 5 hours + 2 cancelled tows later, you’ll be on your way to the mechanic in a tow truck that feels like an earthquake simulator and a driver that’s high, but don’t worry, because he can show you where the only Fatburger in/around LA County that didn’t sell out and still serves wings in a sweet and tangy orange sauce is.
4. Ask if it can be patched
Usually, if the flat is caused by something like a nail in the tread, it can be patched, as opposed to damage to the side wall. Patching is way less expensive than replacing a tire and is totally sufficient. #webroke
5. If you find out it was not an accident, but that somebody slashed it…
Find out who that person is, and then exact revenge in ways they’ve never even heard of (their credit score? Decimated. Their name? On the No Fly List. Herpes? Contracted for the sole purpose of spreading; successfully spread). What they didn’t consider when they slashed your tire is that you’d be able to find out it was them, by means beyond their wildest dreams, and now you get to haunt their every waking moment, which will be plagued by the relentlessly terrorizing knowledge that you know, and you know they know you know, and any instant, a metaphorical bomb could drop (or a real one—just make sure you do it with the stealth of Obama in the drone wars), and BAM—poof goes their illusion that they could get away with fucking with you. Silly rabbit, we don’t get fucked—we fuck. #wedothefucking
6. Leave the shitty tow company that cancels on you a bad Yelp review
Finally make good on your threat to leave a Yelp review.
7. Become friends with the mechanic
He’ll laugh at the “I ❤ MY PENIS” air freshener hanging from your rear view mirror, and you’ll tell him that it’s supposed to be a joke but also kind of a feminist statement, and he’ll respond with, “it’s cute,” and then he’ll tell you he’s impressed that you drive a stick because not many girls do, and you’ll be so tempted to point out all of the patriarchal things wrong with alll of that, but you bite your tongue because anything in the name of getting things for free, right? #it’shardoutthereforafeminist
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only bad chi 