i am tire(d)
Someone wanted Ali and I dead last week, as evidenced by the fact that between our two cars we literally blew through three tires in two days.
Having to replace tires is annoying for a variety of reasons, but mainly because:
- Aside from picking up Ali’s socks, I hate nothing more than to be inconvenienced, and
- Paying for such frivolous things as tires dips in to my Bloomingdale’s fund.
So the first thing I did when I found the nail on Monday was to call Ali at work and say, “There’s a nail the size of my head in my rear tire. Can you come deal with it?” (Note – I don’t play the damsel in distress card often but I think it’s fair that since I do everything else I consider all car-related activities Ali’s territory.)
Anyway, on Tuesday night I got a call from Ali that he’d hit a pothole and not just one but two of his tires popped. Knowing that Ali loves his car even more than me I was terrified at what was going to happen next.
But instead of flipping out and swearing up a storm (as I would have) or leaving the car for someone else to deal with (as I would have) Ali calmly called AAA, turned on his Mi-Fi and laptop, and started working as though he wasn’t sitting in a teetering car at 9:30 pm at night, in a less than savory area of Los Angeles.
And that my friends is why I continue to put up with Ali’s shenanigans. Because I figure it’s in my best interest to live with someone who manages to maintain calm when faced with chaos.
After all, he does have to deal with me everyday.