Flat Tires and Friendly Ladies

My car hates me this week.  On Monday I had to get a new battery.  Then yesterday, I get a flat tire.  Thanks car.  This after I get you washed, waxed and an oil change?

So, I feel a drag and hear the thump, thump, thump.  I parked in my yoga parking lot and had AAA come to do my spare.  Turns out the VERY next driveway was a tire shop.  Umm...dork.  Of course, they didn't have the tire I needed, so they ordered it.  They said it would be there the next day, and they would call me early this afternoon.  At 1 pm, I call them.  Still not in, but soon.  At 4 pm, I call them.  Not in, but it will be there at 5 pm or 5:15.  Finally, at 5:20 I leave work and just go there.  Still not there.  I think they got the clue that I was not to be trifled with (NOT this month).  They called the place it was coming from and it was still at the location.  What far away and exotic location did it take over 24 hours to come from?  From Keily Boulevard, roughly 6 miles away.  Good thing I brought my book.

As I'm sitting in the waiting area, I sit next to this very loquacious 50-something year old.  Here is what I learned:

• she'd been there since 3:30 waiting (oh god, please don't make me sit here for over 2 hours as well); 
• she had felt something wrong with her car a minute before the alert went off on the dashboard; 
• she didn't want to drive for a moment longer with the alert; 
• she had been in a car accident years ago (shows me scar on arm - it was actually pretty gnarly)
• she was at the doctor's and he referred this tire place for her, which was conveniently down the street;
• she all of a sudden in our conversation started having heart palpitations; 
• she actually was at her heart doctor before, who had run tests and everything checked out ok - nothing showed up as wrong in the tests;
• but something was still wrong.  

I told her that possible it was anxiety?  She seemed like an anxious person.  She asked me what anxiety was.  I should probably mention that all this information was repeated a few times.
 
At this point, here is what happens next:

[Thought pops into Nikki's brain]: "Oh nooooo.....she's actually going to ask me to feel her heart, isn't she?  Oh gosh, why do I have a feeling you're actually going to ask me to do it?"
[Lady]: "Here, can you feel my heart?  My heart's beating really fast.  Put your hand here and feel it."
[Nikki's brain]: "Ahhh!  No lady, I'm not going to put my hand on your boob.  I'm sure you're a nice person and all, and I would feel horrible if something was actually wrong with you, but I'm not gonna feel you up in the tire shop waiting lounge."
[Nikki out loud]: "Umm...noooo, I won't feel your heart."
[Lady]: "No?  But it's beating really fast."(motioning toward boob)
[Nikki out loud]: "I believe you...I really think it might be anxiety."

She was so concerned that she frantically was trying to call someone to come pick her up (after asking if someone from the tire shop could take her home), instead of driving home.  To be honest, she seemed more neurotic to me than sick.  I'm not an expert by an means, but she wasn't exhibiting any signs of anything ill heath-wise.  I sincerely do hope she's okay.

So that's my day.  I finally got out of there at 6:35.  It took until 6:25 for the damn tire to travel six miles, and then they got that tire on in record time.  Good thing, too, because I was prepared to sit in that place until they put my stinking tire on.  I was not going home without my tire.