On the road again

I’ve never been a fan of most ‘necessity’ purchases. There is something totally unexciting about buying things like lightbulbs, toilet paper and dishwasher soap. A new roof for the house is as pricey as a decent vacation but definitely a more responsible purchase if you’re wanting to get out of the weather. And purchasing new tires for the car is positively boring…usually.

I drive a snazzy red sports car, when the weather is decent. I’ve had it since it was brand new, eleven years. It was the most extravagant gift I have ever received, and I love it. It goes like stink. It has attitude.

I’ve been careful with this little car – in eleven years it has only traveled 80,000 kilometers. It’s done those kilometers on its original tires, so they were fairly worn when the rainy season hit this year. We (the car and I) had to rein in the attitude so we didn’t surf on puddles. Taking off from a stop light, on even the smallest incline, was becoming embarrassing – a snazzy red sports car shouldn’t have to ease into anything. It was becoming apparent the car needed new shoes.

Tire shopping is anything but glamorous – tire purchases for snazzy red sports cars is anything but cheap. So it was with a bit of reluctance that I started doing my homework on buying new sneakers for the car.

I’m not sure if it’s the affection I have for my wheels or a new sense of responsibility that made the shopping somewhat interesting to start with and down right exciting by the time I made my decision. Tire sales people have a lingo their own and the specs on different of tires is a language unto itself. All the tires were black, all had deeply designed treads, all would give me the traction I was so sorely missing and all were expensive. I was about to make a major purchase based on safety as well as style and it was a big decision.

I chose the tires, made the appointment for the installation and delivered the car on a sunny Wednesday morning. I had gotten over the sticker shock and was really looking forward to hugging the road again. I drank Starbucks coffee while I waited and tapped my foot. My car and I were getting back into the game and I was admittedly excited to be able to put my foot into the drive again.

The new shoes looked great. I drove home testing the drive on curving country roads and dreamed of springtime when I could put the roof down and feel the wind in my hair again. I eased onto the freeway to give the car some gas.

It is here where this story gets interesting, exciting even – the surprise twist that wasn’t expected.

Just as we were feeling the groove, zipping past some reluctant putz, there was a sudden pop – a swoosh — a flash of blue sky —- and major wind in my hair. I quickly eased the car into the median, my heart racing, and came to a stop. My hair was standing on end, lifted like the roof of the car at 105 kilometers an hour, in the fast lane on the freeway.

I’m not going to get into the play by play about the roof, this a story about new tires after all. The short of it is: after determining I couldn’t fix the roof myself my knight in shining armor showed up (as he always does) and rescued his damsel in distress. The tire shop took full responsibility for not re-clipping the roof after the car had been up on the hoist. After a day of farting around at three different establishments, the roof has been repaired and we are on the road again.

Nothing is ever straight forward in our house, nothing is simple. A seemingly routine purchase turned into a hair raising story. Good for the blogging adventure, a little hard on the nerves, but a story that ends well is always worth the telling.