The Infamous Tire Iron Incident

So what was the infamous tire iron incident you ask? A few of you have already heard the story, either directly from me or from Nia. For the rest of you, here is how the story goes...

Last November I had the opportunity to present at the Plus Time NH Afterschool Conference. Unfortunately, it was the same Saturday as the Food Sovereignty class I was taking, along with my buddy, cohort, instigator....the list really is endless (You didn't think you'd get to be sweet & innocent in all this, did you?). With some snarling up of time, travel and whatnot, I was able to schedule both events into my day with just enough time to spare. Everything was perfectly planned and prepared for ahead of time. Looking back, I should have been suspicious.

Nia stayed at our house the night before. The plan was to go to the conference, present and then book it (no of course I wouldn't speed)from Manchester to Keene to get to class. No problem. As we walked out of the house, I noticed one of my tires was a little flat. No problem, I just stopped and filled it up and we were off to Manchester. (Nia, stop giggling, I can hear you from here). The conference went well, my presentation was well received and we left with plenty of time to get to Keene with a stop at Panera's to get food and coffee. (Mmmm, mocha lattes....sorry caffeine tangent).

It was a cloudy day, the sky was just waiting to open up. No problem, we'd be in class by then. Uh-huh. Then, traveling along Route 9, about ten minutes from Keene, my car started to handle funny. Uh-oh I thought....just get me to Keene. Then I started to hear the thump...thump...thump that along with the smell of burning rubber alerted me to the fact I had a flat. Quickly pulling far over onto the shoulder...trust me you don't want to be anywhere near the traffic on that road...I stopped, got out and looked.

I couldn't just have a simple flat...no I had to have a shredded tire. Okay, I can change a tire no problem... While I was digging everything out of the back of my car, an ordeal in and of itself, Nia was trying to call a classmate to let them know we'd be a bit late. That was when it started to rain. So okay, sometimes the Universe is not particularly nice to me, but it usually works out fine. So I'm keeping my swearing to a minimum....okay, I was keeping the volume to a minimum, and I hadn't gotten to the really creative ones yet. Nia meanwhile is happily chatting away on the phone, just as a NH State trooper pulls up to help. Needless to say we were both very happy.

Granted I can change a tire, I just don't like to do it. If the damsel in distress mode gets me out of it, so much the better. The very nice trooper was happy to help. It was a good thing he did stop. The tire iron that came with Fith (aka the KIA) sucks...as does the jack. Also, the tire rim did not want to come off, at least not until I beat on it a bit. Finally we got the bad tire off and replaced with the doughnut which would get me to Keene and then home. Of course, this is all just background for the really funny part (I say funny as in ironic, Nia says funny as in HA, HA, I have to tell everyone in the cohort this!)

The Trooper's tire iron was one of those nice 4 way versions. They spin very nicely to tighten up the lug nuts. Which he was doing as he had me start lowering the jack. Unfortunately, that required my head being in the vicinity of the tire iron. Everything was coming along nicely when
*whack*. The tire iron hit me right in the forehead.

It did stun me for a second...until I could hear Nia LAUGHING. And no it did not break the tire iron as was suggested by one of my friends. The poor Trooper though. He was so embarrassed and was apologizing profusely, over Nia's LAUGHING. assured him that there were many people who would have paid to have seen it happen. Nia agreed, laughing even more (wait, why do I like you again...?). In the process, I also broke my last watch...it's that linear time thing. He hurriedly packed up and sent us on our way to class, calling out our thanks as we went.

Of course, those of you who have known me for a long time know that 1) I am stubborn, sometimes to the point of stupidity when the Universe is trying to get a message to me and 2) I am hardheaded in all sense of the word...Irish and Italian...you expect what else? The standard joke is it requires a 4x4 to the head repeatedly to get me to pay attention and follow the guidance I'm given. Apparently the 4x4 has been retired...or broken...I swear it was not intentional. The guardian angel apparently was forced to resort to tire irons.

Needless to say the story was told throughout Antioch that week. Especially since my head didn't actually start to hurt until about an hour later. Further proof of my thick head...did I mention the Irish part? So that is the story. Of course now I cannot help but wonder what will happen if I break a tire iron?