What's That Noise?

Right now it is 11:10am. My day started this morning at 8:00am. It started with me waking up late. My plan was to wake up (about 7:30am) leave my house around 8:15 and meet my friend Holly at church in Visalia at 9:00am. Sounds pretty simple, but wait...

What actually happened was I woke up at 8:00 (30 minutes late), sat up in bed and started thinking through my options. I decided I would still get ready and try and leave my apartment by 8:15am. I got dressed, did the make-up thing, threw my hair up and was out the door by 8:17am.

I was on the road and all was going well--I was singing along to Carrie Underwood, driving down the 99, when all of the sudden, I heard a noise. A loud reoccuring noise at that. I was pretty sure I knew what it was...and was not excited about it...

I pulled off at the nearest exit, which was right before I got to Selma. I can't even remember the exact street, but when I took the exit and pulled over on the side of the road, all I saw around me were tractors, cows and a large brick building with a metal gate around it.

I got out of my car and sure enough my tire was shot. I honestly laughed at this moment, because it was just comical to me because my day had already started out a little rocky--and sometimes you just have to laugh.

I knew I had no other option then to put my spare tire on and then drive it somewhere to get the tire replaced. I put my flashers on, opened my trunk, got out my spare, took out my "emergency road side assistant kit" (something I never really thought I would use, but boy did it come in handy). So I have this big tool box open, a tire on the ground, me in nice church clothes on the ground trying to figure out exactly how this whole changing a tire thing worked.

I couldn't get the jack out of my trunk, because it was bolted to the side--obviously it had never been used in the 10 years the car had been around. I almost and I highlight almost shed a few tears, but I stopped myself and realized there was no reason to cry and I just stayed focused.

I continued to struggle with getting the jack out of my car, when I look up and there is a gentlemen walking towards me. I was relieved, but also nervous. Remember I am out in the middle of NOWHERE. What was he doing out there too...?

Long story short, this gentlemen (who's name I found out was George) took over for me. He did it all--jacked up my car, took off my old tire, put on my spare and put my car back on level ground. I offered to help (not sure what I would do, but thought the offer was a good idea) but he said he was fine and he had it all under control. I literally just stood back and watched.

When George was all done, he said, "Sorry it took me so long". (It took him like 15 minutes) I laughed and thanked him for his help. I asked him what he was doing out in the area and he said he had just got off work from the Juviniele Correction Facility.

I smiled, shook George's hand and thanked him again for all his help. He told me a pretty girl like me shouldn't be on the ground in the dirt wrestling with a tire. It was quite the scene when I was attemping to change the tire myself--wish you could have seen it. But I'm sure you can just imagine.

Apparently you're really not supposed to drive on the freeway with a spare tire, but I had no option. I told him where I was going to go to get my tire replaced (which was about 12-14 miles from where I was) and he told me he would follow me on the freeway until I reahced my exit, just to be sure I made it off the freeway okay. This man didn't have to do any of this--but he did. Bless his heart.

Now, almost three hours later, I am back exactly where I started my morning off. I didn't make it to church this morning but I did make it to Wal-Mart and got a new tire and oil change.

Moral of the story: There needs to be more men like George in the world. PTL for George.