My latest hero

2006-10-05 - 12:11 a.m.

Tonight I left the office, racing downtown to make a 6:30 curtain. A block from my office, as I'm creeping along in the barely moving traffic, a coworker pulls alongside me and says my tire's flat. I asked him if it was just low or flat-flat. He said low.

So when I got to the red light, I hopped out and ran around the car to check how bad it was. And it was definitely flat. There goes curtain.

So I limped the car along slowly til I got to the gas station up the road and pulled up at the air pump. As I went to remove the valve stem, I noticed something round on the tire, right by the tread.

It was the head of a bolt.

Obviously air was not quite going to do the trick.

Somehow I've made it to 33 (almost 34) years old without ever changing a tire by myself. Foolish, I know. I should well have done that ages ago.

But I'm a capable person and can follow poorly illustrated instructions like nobody's business. I have plenty of IKEA furniture to prove that. Of course many of the pieces required disassembly and reassembly to get right after I realized the first piece in the middle was backwards, but so be it. It's only a car, right?!

So I pulled out my spare, the tool bag, the jack, a rag and the owner's manual and set to work. Unfortunately I realized right in the beginning that I didn't have anything to block the opposing wheel when I jacked the car up...not good. I tried the guy behind the counter at the gas station, but he just snarled that he didn't have anything I could use, no, I don't have anything like that, grrr. FINE. So I wandered outside a bit, looking for a chunk of wood or rock or something. I called my dad to find out how big a something I really needed to find--and would the huge hardcover Lit book in my backseat do the trick. Dads are good at that sort of thing.

While we were on the phone, Pat, my brawny, smiling, gentleman hero came by to see if he could help out. Thank goodness he did, because the shop had tightened the lug nuts down so tight with the air wrench that I never could have loosened them myself. It took everything he had, even with his tree trunk arms. He changed the tire after all and we had a really nice chat while he worked. I brought things back and forth but he really did all the real work himself. I asked him if I could buy him a beer (there's a pub right next to the gas station). He looked genuinely touched that I offered, like nobody would ever offer something to thank a stranger. But he smiled and explained that his 2- and 4-year-old daughters were waiting for him, and with kids that age, you just don't let them down, and you don't miss a minute with them. Aww. Sure as heck can't argue with that.

As I thanked him profusely for being so kind and helping me out, he said he hoped that if his wife were stuck somewhere that someone would stop and help her. What comes around goes around. He waited until I was settled in the car and waved as he drove away.

Who was that masked man with the big, beautiful hands with all the grease around that shining gold ring?

And could we please clone some people like Pat? The world could use so many more like him.

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Pretend it's 10th grade. Leave me a note.

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