So I am positive that a vampire changed my tire yesterday. Well, I’m pretty sure. I have had this nagging left back tire. During the summer, I had to fill it up once in a while because of a screw that decided to make his little home in the sidewall of my tire. Okay, I don’t mind filling up my tire to avoid getting it fixed because, let’s face it. I HATE dealing with anything to do with my car. I refuse to get my oil changed and I will not get it winterized. If I put it off long enough, my husband will get thoroughly disgusted and irate to the point that he will do it himself and I am off the hook. I know, it’s the slacker’s way out, but it works. If it’s not broken, then why fix it?? Round and round we go in the cycle. He nags and nags..I procrastinate and then he does it. Works for me! This is why I still drive around with no passenger side mirror that I took out with a mailbox last year. I simply don’t want to deal with it. I tried to get my husband to rig up a mirror from one of my compacts. I even offered up my cute Clinique one!!! It would match the color of my Jeep perfectly! Clinique, people! And he refused and said that he would rather die than see a Jeep drive around with a compact for a side mirror. Brings a whole new meaning to applying makeup while driving. Well, I happened to run into a different kind of situation this week. The nagging back left tire decided that it was going to completely go flat. Twice. Once in my driveway. Which was okay because I deftly hooked up my little handy dandy air compressor and filled up the tire and off I went. The second time was a bit mortifying. I was in an upscale little town north of my own in a posh little shopping center. I scored some sweet deals and had just packed up the munchkins. I jumped in the Jeep (with no mirror…It kinda looked ghetto..I know..But wait! It gets better!) and was about to pull out. Some woman in a shiny brand spankin’ new Volvo was waving a bejeweled hand out of her window. “Yes. Excuse me? But, your tire is flat. Hello? Your tire is flat? I just thought you would want to know.” Yeah. I thanked her, but could NOT bring myself to hook up an air compressor in the middle of this spa-like shopping center. It would be like clubbing Nancy Kerrigan’s leg. You just don’t do it without some kind of consequence, whether it be the disgusted looks, or the older generation walking around with their fingers in their ears. I wasn’t going to take the risk of the shop owners coming out and taking their items back and saying “Just kidding! This WAS NOT on sale. Full price for you! NOISE MAKER!” So I drove about 100 feet to the nearest gas station. At least I wouldn’t feel guilty about the noise. WRONG. All kinds of stares and pitiful looks. I looked completely hopeless and, yes, ghetto among these Stepford people. That was it. Time for a tire fix. The next day I, again, pumped up my tire with my noisy air compressor ( I think I qualify as a mechanic now) and drove to the nearest tire place (no, I did no research on which place was cheapest. This place was close. Less pain). I walked in and was greeted by Mr. Hi! I’m the Boy Next Door. Boy Next Door explained to me that there were, in fact, 2 screws in my tire (what? Did I drive through a tool factory and not remember?) and the damage was not repairable. I would need a new tire. None of this “Oh, they throw a plug in your tire..Takes 5 minutes!” That my dad told me. Boy Next Door also informed me that, to my luck, they did not have my particular tire in stock and would have to order it. Great. I asked what could be done?? Do I just drive on this bad tire and keep pumping it up until the new tire arrives?? Gravely, he shook his head. “One pothole and it will blow.” Oh my. I certainly wouldn’t want to be a damsel in distress in this weather. It’s too cold. Not good for the skin. “So what do I do?” I asked “Well, do you have a spare tire?” I must have looked blank. Of course I don’t know! Unless I can see it with my eyes, I have no idea what I have in my car! I could have a pet rabbit running around the interior of the car, but if I don’t see him, then no harm! And I am sure I have at least 5 ridiculously stunning shades of lipstick floating around somewhere with the phantom French fries. But do I know?? Of course I don’t know! And who has time to search a car anyways when there are so many more exciting things to do? Like watching trashy television and perusing Ebay! Mr. Boy Next Door located my spare UNDER my car only after removing everything from my trunk. This included my double stroller which is a tank, my two single strollers and multiple other baby items including, but not limited to, diapers, wipes, floppy seats and some sort of rope (obviously not baby related..heh heh). He then called to one of the mechanics to take my car back to have the spare put on do I, you know, didn’t DIE when hitting a pothole. That’s when I saw him. The vampire. He came over to my Jeep to take it back into the garage. He had skin that was translucent. I felt if I looked close enough, I would be able to see every vital organ inside his being. His eyes were so incredibly ice blue and piercing, that I had to look away involuntarily. And I never look away involuntarily. I am generally a confident person in dealing with people on this level. I tried to catch a glimpse of his name on his shirt but it was fuzzy. It was fuzzy!!! It was not meant to be read! You know why? Because he was a VAMPIRE! And I know he was reading my thoughts because he didn’t even say a word to me, but slid in behind the wheel of my car and maneuvered it expertly into the garage. I clambered to get inside fast to get a look at him. Not an easy feat with two kids. It took about ten freaking minutes before I could even see what was going on inside the garage, but by that time, he was almost done changing the tire. Crap! I wanted the goods! Did he wave his hand and magically change the tire..No, vampires don’t do that. Wait..What kind of drink did he have? Vitamin Water. Shoot. Wait! But he could have brought that from home and had it infused with some sort of blood before coming to work! Yes! He was drinking RED Vitamin Water. JACKPOT! All of a sudden, my car was in front of the building and done. How had I not seen it get there?? You know why? Because a VAMPIRE did it. I strolled the kids over to the car and over to the tire. Tire looked normal. You know what I was inspecting for?? Bite marks. I may have made him mad if he could read my thoughts about the Vitamin Water. I could have really ruined his day now that he knew someone figured him out. I waited to pay and Mr. Hi! I’m Boy Next Door was willing to process the transaction. Done. Finally. Tire was fixed, but not without drama. As I walked out of the store, I glanced back towards the garage area and saw the vampire. He looked at me and I SWEAR his EYES FLASHED. I practically yelped and bounded towards my car. Once I was in it, I locked it. As if that would do anything. He could probably bust through the glass and have at my neck if he wanted to. Hopefully the Vitamin Water would hold him off. Now, every time I go out to my car I expect to see that tire flat. The culprit?? Two bite marks from the VAMPIRE.






