I readily admit that (a) I don't bring home enough bacon to feed my family without the hubby's help and (b) I'm not much interested in frying what little bacon I do bring home — or cooking anything, really, unless it's pre-prepared. (I guess I would qualify as a poor starving feminist, if I were on my own ;))
And, no, I cannot do everything a man can do even better than he can do it — unless I have the proper tools, that is. Take, for example, changing a flat tire.
Yes, I can change my own flat tire. I just did tonight. Tire irons and car jacks are our friends, ladies — never mind diamonds. And, with grease under my fingernails as I type, I'm proud to tell you that I needed no help with the tire ... until it came time to pay for the replacement :)
Hey, look out for that curb!
My hubby cringes every time he looks at or thinks about my car. See, I consider my car nothing more than one of many tools I own, albeit a pretty expensive one. It gets me from Point A to Point B without having to wait at a bus stop. Love it!
And I use it like my hubby uses his wrenches: I beat on it. I brake too hard, corner too quickly, go to the carwash too infrequently, and generally drive too fast. (I can't remember, in fact, the last time I drove the speed limit ;)) Things break on my car. Often.
My car, the tool, allows me to feel free, strong and independent, at least while I'm driving. But I have this strange weakness: Curbs kick my ass. (In my defense, I learned to drive in a part of the country where curbs didn't exist.) Tonight, I hit one on the way home. Don't ask how; I won't tell.
I couldn't pull over right away, as I was in a merge lane, heading northwest on Main Street out of Waukesha onto Bluemound Road toward Brookfield. Many of you know that stupid lane, I'm sure; it's the one that looks like a freeway entrance ramp but acts like a parking lane.
Anyway, after the blow-out, I had to pull off the main road onto the frontage road, where I could safely change the tire. I correctly guessed I would shred the tire, but I've always figured it's better to be safe and get off a major road than to try saving a tire that may not be salvageable. (Yes, this is experience talking: This was my fourth curb-induced flat tire. Again, don't ask!)
And then I acted out a porn scene: I got dirty after getting on my hands and knees.
Learn from my mistakes — or face the laughs
I'm a bit rusty, so it took me about 45 minutes to change the tire. Yes, I know: Guys — and some women, I'm sure — can do it faster. But I got it done.
This might be a good time for a PSA: Gals, don't make the same mistakes I've made — at least not while there are guys watching!
Tonight, the plastic thingy that pretends to be a hubcab proved too much for me. See, I didn't pull out my owner's manual right away. (I know what you're thinking: That's a man mistake. But I figured that if I was going to do a job a man usually does, I should do it like a man would do it: without ever cracking the instructions :))
I didn't realize the plastic thingy has attached lug-nut covers that screw off just like the nuts themselves. I quickly tired of wrestling with the stupid thing and ripped it off, breaking three of the nut covers off. Oops. Gentle with tools I am not! (My hubby will undoubtedly cringe when reading this ... perhaps for more than one reason ;))
The next step went well — this time. Once upon a time, I foolishly jacked up the car before trying to loosen the lug nuts. Guess what? The tire spins when you do that. Who knew? Now I know to loosen them while the car is still solidly on the ground.
A trick for you tiny folks: Most of those lug nuts are applied with machinery. They're on too tight for anyone — man or woman — to loosen with a simple arm twist. Attach the tire iron to one of the screws so that the handle is roughly parallel to the ground. Then stand on the iron and gently bounce to loosen the nut, being careful to brace yourself in case you slip off. (Oh, and remember that it's lefty loosey, righty tighty :))
Once those lug nuts are loose, you can jack up the car. It's really quite easy: You put the jack under the car in a spot where the frame is solid and straight and turn the li'l handle. Of course, finding a spot where the frame is solid and straight is the trick here ... I'll explain in a bit.
Once the tire clears the ground you can remove the lug nuts totally (if you haven't already) and pull the tire off. This part usually stumps me.
See, on older or well-used cars, the tires often rust in place. Pulling won't break them free. Kicking them won't break them loose. Lying under the car — a serious no-no! — and kicking them from behind won't budge them, especially when the car and the ground are both frozen in mid-winter. Trust me on this one.
I once walked to a corner repair shop and asked to borrow a sledge hammer so I could loosen a damn flat tire. The guy refused to give me one but was kind enough to walk back with me and use the sledge hammer himself. I was pleased it took him three swings.
Tonight, the tire came right off, lickety split. I was pumped! But ... then ... the bloody car slid backward off the jack, in slow motion. And I was powerless to stop it. Aaarg! (Remember that bit about finding a spot where the frame is straight? Oh, and the part about how dangerous it is to crawl under a car elevated on a jack???)
I'm fine. I think the car is OK. The pavement has a couple gouges in it.
I started over with the jack. Jack is my friend. Jack takes freakin' forever to go from six inches of elevation to flat and then back to six inches of elevation. But he does the heavy lifting, so I can't complain. Much.
Read the instructions!
I finally decided to get out the owner's manual at this point. See, I pulled the space-saver spare tire from the trunk and then realized I had no idea which side should face inward toward the car. And those space-savers look quite a bit different than the real things. Ummm ... ?
I read every part of the manual regarding tires, and guess what? There is no instruction regarding what direction to turn the tire before putting it on. (However, the manual does tell you how to find a secure spot for the jack, surprise, surprise.) I'm writing Chevy!
In the meantime, I figured it out by checking the curve of the lug nut holes and comparing it to the real tire ... You'll see what I mean when you get to that point.
Buttoning up is pretty easy. Put the lug nuts on finger-tight before lowering the car to the ground, for obvious reasons. Then tighten them the same way you loosened them, with the tire iron acting as your lever and your weight as your strength. Remember to tighten in a star-shaped pattern: This ensures the tire is mounted flat, not tight on one side and loose on another.
Fortunately, I didn't have far to travel on my spare. Tires Plus was less than a mile down the road. Figures!
The guys at Tires Plus were great. They didn't say anything about the heap of trash on my car floor, the freshly spilled yogurt on my steering wheel, or the plastic hubcab I destroyed.
And, with perfect businessman demeanor, the guy who gave me my bill offered me the phone when I told him that, ah, I was at my daily limit on my debit card and couldn't pay myself ... so I'd need to call my hubby and ask to use his debit card.
I swear, though, that he was laughing as I left the building, after almost forgetting my keys. Oh, yeah, folks: You need your keys to start your car ... ;)
In total, the experience took an hour and a half of my life. The good news is that there was no bacon waiting for me to fry it when I got home ... 'cause it simply would have been too much for me!
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