Tires

I don’t know what it is with me and tires but I go through them like crazy.  We have put eight tires on this car since 2008, four of them this year.  We ran over a bolt in Arkansas, another bolt in Boston, and replaced two from wear and tear.  These last two were put on exactly 30 days ago and this morning, one of them was flat.  Oh well, this is why I have AAA and it has more than paid for itself.  So today Sean from AAA showed up and I explained that we tried to change it but one of the lug nuts was stuck.  By “we” I mean Rebecca of course, because she’s a Girl Scout and she knows how to do practical things like change a flat and tie a sailor’s knot.  I know how to sign up for AAA. 
Anyway, Sean demonstrated that, if you put the thing on the lug nut and use your foot it’s easier because, “the legs are the strongest part of a woman’s body.”  I fell in love with Sean. 
Anyway, after work we went to the tire place and waited in their super fancy waiting area while they fixed the tire.  This waiting room is clean, has two study carrels, a TV, a sofa and coffee table, and some sort of self serve drink station that we couldn’t understand. 
At one point, Rebecca looks up and points out this poster on the wall.
WTF?!  Where do you even buy something like this?

This is NOT the Michelin Man I grew up with.  My Michelin Man was jolly and made you want to buy tires and give him a hug.  This Michelin Man is smoking a giant blunt on a bicycle with his hand down his “pants” doing something that, frankly, I didn’t think inflatable tire people could do. And, he has no EYES.

This is upsetting and it makes me want to buy a dog sled or some other form of transport that doesn’t require tires.  In any case, I will have nightmares about a baked, eyeless mummy thing on a bicycle that wants to wrap my body (not just my feet) in white duct tape, and the entire time he’s berating me in French. And you thought the Ambien Walrus was bad.

P.S. He appears to be wearing red loafers with no socks.  Or maybe those are red stockings which is worse. Much worse.

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The devil is in the details.

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