A St. Patrick's Day Story for the Ages

So it's St. Patrick's Day. I come home from work, get all dolled up in a pretty dress and heels and head out the door to go get my hair cut and then go straight from there to the Pub.

So I'm on the highway. Now, my car already shakes whenever it hits 65-70 MPH, but suddenly, it starts shaking harder and making funny noises. So I'm like, "Oh, shit!" and I call Kyle, who is already at the Pub with me mum, and I'm like, "Let me talk to Mom! MOM! My car is making funny noises and I think I'm gonna need a ride in a minute!" And she's like, "Call your dad. He's home." And I'm like, "Ugh, thanks, MOM!" but in her defense, it's the first time she's ever gotten to go out on St. Patty's Day and my dad really is the one to call in these situations.

So anyhoo. I get off the highway and there's nowhere to pull over and my car is sounding worse and worse and finally, there's some space on the shoulder of the road so I go there. As I'm pulling over, my car makes an even louder noise that sounds so terrible, I'm immediately convinced that this is it, my car's done fer. I call my dad and he's like, "I'll be right there! Call a tow truck." So I call a tow truck company and cancel my hair cut and then a baby cop is there (I call them baby cops when they are younger and more fresh-faced than me....kids today, ya know?), checking on me, and he sits behind my car for about 20 minutes, then leaves when I assure him my dad and a tow are both on their way. I'm cursing myself for not bringing my book like I'd thought of doing and getting bored when my dad pulls up behind me.

So my dad gets in the car with me and we're waiting for the tow truck, and I'm describing to him what happened, and I'm lamenting the fact that from the sound of it, I think my car's broken for good this time and it sounded SO bad and we're agreeing that I definitely need a new car when he says, "Did it sound like something was dragging?" I say I don't know and he gets out to look underneath the car. Then he looks toward the front of the car. And he says, "Did it sound like a flat tire?"

!!!!!

So I'm like, "WHAT? Are you fucking serious?" And he starts laughing at me and tells me, "Yup, your front tire is flat." And I am relieved. But I feel like the world's biggest dumbass. (Although in my defense, the last time I had a flat tire whilst driving was 10 years ago, on Christmas during my senior year. And with my car and it's many problems, I always assume the worst. So anyway.)

So I cancel the tow truck, my dad changes my flat tire (while still laughing at me, although he agreed that yes, at least it was nice outside) then he follows me home and then we leave my car at my house and he drops me off at the Pub. The next day, my dad takes me to work (I worked in Adrian last week and you can't drive a donut on the highway), and while I'm at work, he gets my tire fixed (it was under warranty!) and then he puts the new tire on my car and picks me up from work. And he even brought the dog, because he knows I love the dog.

My dad sure is a good sport.

The End.

P.S. Cory and I woke up, majorly hungover, on Saturday morning after a night at Mike and Stephanie's. We walked outside and realized my OTHER front tire was flat. So Cory changed the tire, hungover, and long story short, I did end up having to pay for a tire. BUT, the tire place balanced my tires and guess what? My car doesn't shake on the highway anymore! So it was a Sunday miracle when I figured that out this morning. The End, Part 2.