Bad Business

If it isn’t one thing, it’s another. My son left for work and later his wife called asking where he was. They usually cross paths at work and he wasn’t there.

It turns out he had a flat tire a block from the house and was at a gas station trying to get the flat tire off and the donut on. Sounds simple enough, but it wasn’t happening. The flat tire would not budge. A man finally stopped to help him. He had some heavy duty tools and was very knowledgeable about tires. They got the tire off and he said it was the wrong size tire and flat because it was rubbing against something.

That is bad news. I received a gift of a free oil change from my son last October at a major tire chain. While there they did do some iffy things, like try to sell me break fluid and pads, belts, two wipers and power steering fluid along with three tires. I knew I’d just had my brakes redone by a very reliable shop that I know and trust, but I could see the tires were completely worn out and the price seemed right, so I bought the three tires and had them align them. The rest he back peddled on when I asked if he thought my new brake job was not done right.

Now one of those tires is flat, supposedly the wrong size and the donut is flat too! And, to top things off, I live twenty miles plus from the tire place I bought them at. Not that I’d trust them to put air in a balloon anymore, so the kids lost several hours worth of work already and in the morning my son will take his wife to work.

I will watch Lennon who will not be up yet while my son takes the flat tires to my local man to fix, fill, or replace and find out if the tires I bought really are the wrong size. If they are, then the fun begins. Have I ever mentioned how much I really detest confrontational exchanges?

Thank god for my daughter-in-law, who thrives on them. For once in my life I will not have to charge into a battle I’d be dreading.