Woody Cavenaugh

Comming home to the Crystal Coast today in the long boring stretch between New Bern and Kinston on highway 70, I heard a pop, the handling on the car went south, and through the wheel I felt the sensation of a blowout. Damn. So I pull over, hop out and prepare to make the repair when low and behold, I had four tires in exactly the same condition.
Whole. With air. Of the non-blown out variety. This of course makes me extra nervious.

The only thing to do of course is to check everything out, belt was fine, I grabbed the two front tires and shook as hard as I could. The suspension passed the roadside test. Nothing dragging the road. Damn.

So, I get back in the car and head back out, now with extra paranoia. Six or so miles later the exact same thing happens, I manage to get off the road right at the bottom of the bridge that spans the Neuse river. I get out. The front left tire is flat. Damn. Actually, this is something of a relief. It is broken, I can touch it, I can fix it. I do, and replace the blown out tire with the factory spare, it has never been used before. Did I mention the car is a 1997? Yes it is, and yes the spare was flat as well. Damn.

I knew a convenience store was just under a mile away from where I was so I limped the car over there. This convenience store was of the type "inconvenient". Though I could get my Wendy's fix on, get a tank of gas, and a lottery ticket, I could not get air. Damn.....it.

Next stop, the next closest gas station. If there isn't air, there will be Fix a Flat, and this would count as an emergency. My mother was very specific about asking me what time I was going to be home because she was going to have a nice hot seafood dinner waiting for me when I walked in the door. Fortunately, this gas station had air, I filled the spare to the recommended 60 psi at a cost of seventy-five cents. I was back on the road, with the donut.

With all of that I did still manage to fall within the time range I told my mother.

They hadn't started cooking yet.
Damn.