It’s your 26th birthday. Naturally, you want to spend it by roadtripping to the City of Brotherly Love with your BFF in search of large roadside attractions. As the saying goes, ‘A day of a giant cellophane-encased Tastykake apple pie brings a year of good luck.’ (Unknown)
But as you set off, you can’t help but notice that your front tire looks a little low on air. Fortunately, you’re a modern gal who wears slacks and knows how to use an air pump. Nothing a quick trip to Exxon can’t fix!
Yet as you’re filling your tire, the problem appears to be getting worse. One more mile down the road and it becomes quite clear–you’re rocking a flat.
After dropping the car off at a nearby auto shop, you spend the next two hours waiting in what can only be described as a trailer designed for conjugal visits. Sitting on a stained, grossly oversized La-Z-Boy sofa and watching The Price is Right is a sobering way to usher in your new year; one that hardly screams, ‘Your soulmate is right around the corner.’ A rat, perhaps–but not a soulmate.
But turns out there is something more sobering: Learning two hours later that–after a thorough inspection–there was nothing wrong with your vehicle. You were just so inept with the pump that you didn’t fill your tire, but rather drained it of all remaining air.
Haaaaa-py birth-dayyyyy to youuuuuu.