My Knight in Shining Armor

This past weekend, I went with Jeff and Kristin to the BYU v. TCU game.

(For that story, see here)

But the real story begins on the way home from Provo.

I was excited because I had just gotten out of the traffic jam that had held me captive for the previous 35 minutes. Sure, I had Coldplay to keep me company but even Chris Martin's voice couldn't soothe my lonely heart.

I was nearly there, nearly home to my warm house and my lovely wife.

Then, something happened. Something that hadn't occurred in the previous five years but this something was always in my mind as a possibility.

My car (Vivian) started acting weird. I thought to myself, "wow, this lane is super bumpy." As I merged to the right, I noticed the bumpiness wasn't going away but getting worse. "Oh no. I think my stupid tire is flat!"

I quickly made my way over to the shoulder, put the hazard lights on and exited the vehicle. I indeed had a flat tire.

I was on the freeway in between 90 s. and 72 s. I'm not gonna lie, I was scared. I had changed plenty of tires before but never on the freeway. At 9pm on a Saturday night, the cars were a-plenty and zooming by at unlawful speeds. I didn't have more than 3-4 feet to work.

Before attempting anything, I found a bottle of fix-a-flat in my trunk and thought I'd give it a try.

I didn't want to be next to the car, (the fear of death will do that to you) so I hid in front of it while I emptied the fix-a-flat solution into my tire.

All that happened was the foamy liquid sprayed all over the tire and the road and a little got on me. I was so frustrated with it, I took the bottle and through it at the dividing wall that lines the freeway.

If things weren't bad enough, I didn't have a tire iron and only had a jack in my possession. I didn't want to be on the noisy highway anymore, so I quietly rolled my car at about 5 mph til I could exit.

I sat there in the parking lot of a Maverick gas station, and realized that RedBox is a very popular thing b/c at 10pm there was a constant line of people renting movies.

THEN...my Manda rolled in. She must have felt that I was in desperate need of a hug and a tire iron. She was a sight to behold and her white car (Maxine) looked exactly like a white stallion swooping in to save the day! She had with her the tools I needed to changed the lousy tire.

She followed me all the way home as we drove the backstreets of the Salt Lake valley. My donut tire was a trooper but there was no way I would let it go more than 40.

Manda saved more than my car that night...she saved my life. Thanks for being there sweet pea.

The End.