Trouble Is My Middle Name Or Why I Should Not Be Allowed To Drive

This year has been full of lots of car tom foolery.

There was this gem.


Smashed in my driver’s side headlight leaving the Whole Foods parking lot in Dr. Phillips. Luckily, no one was hurt and there was minimal damage but it really did make going back to work a hoot.

This week my tire pressure indicator came on as it does monthly (yes I know I should regularly put air in my tires but I forget.) It only ever seems to indicate low tire pressure on Monday’s when I am cutting it close to leaving a little on the late side for work. After I saw the light, I made a u-turn back into my community and grabbed the tire pressure compressor that J keeps in the back of his car and filled my tires. I have done this a million times and never had an issue (except the one time I put way too much air in and my tire exploded but that was at least five years ago.) I made a rookie mistake of not checking that the gauge was set to the correct amount and took off for work. When I left work, the stupid light is still on, so I assume that there is some kind of leak or I ran over a nail. When I get home, J checks the tires and the front two have way to much (like 43 instead of 33) and the back two are low. So no nail or leak but it delayed me enough to miss an important meeting.

The following day I stopped to get gas. I set the latch on the pump that is supposed to stop when it is full and I stand next to my car waiting. All of a sudden, a riptide of gas is pouring out of my gas tank. I grab the pump and hurry to switch it off. Of course I get gas on my shoes, hands, and down the entire side of my car. Now I am completely freaked out that some spare spark is going to ignite my car in flames. J assures me that the car is safe to drive and I make it back to work stinking like gas for the rest of the day.

The moral of this story is to keep me as far away from your car as possible. I may be a liability and would hate to see your insurance rates skyrocket because of it.

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