Roadside Hazard

Things today started as they do on any normal day, until I got in my car to go to the gym and run a few errands. As I started to make a U-turn to go down the hill and exit my neighborhood, I couldn't help but notice that my car was tilted unnaturally toward the right and front, and a strange, gravel-ly sound was emanating the right side. My fears were confirmed when I exited and inspected my vehicle: flat tire!

The tire was completely deflated between the rim and the ground, so there was no way I could have driven it to a tire place; I would have to change it myself. For those unfamiliar with my knowledge/skill set with cars, my automotive aptitude is probably on par with that of most four-year-olds. So I enlisted the help of my younger sister, who claimed to have tire-changing experience. [Untoward, sexist comments stemming from the ridiculous stereotype that men should be better at mechanical matters than women are completely uncalled for and unappreciated for this entry.]

As mentioned earlier, we live on a hill, which complicated the matter of tiring changing significantly. My all-knowing sister insisted that I move my car to a completely flat stretch of road, but the nearest patch of very flat road is some distance down hill, and I feared that driving my car that far risked doing some damage to the wheel (since it had no tire to support it). I compromised, and moved it to a close section of the street that was relatively flat. Next came the matter of jacking up the Prius. We removed the jack and spare tire from my trunk. My sister eyed the directions, and proceeded to place the jack under the proper portion of my car, all the while insisting that it was a bad idea on the incline.

After taking turns with the little manual, hand-crank jack, we finally had it high enough to remove the flat. Those bolts were screwed on fast! Fortunately for us, my substantial upper body strength came in handy, and I was able to wrest them off. With the tire off, we found that the Prius still wasn't jacked up high enough to allow us to put the fully inflated spare on, so we continued taking turns turning the little crank. The midday sun was making our labor unpleasant, so during one of my sister's shifts, I went inside to get us each a glass of ice water. As I was cheerfully pouring the water from an Arrowhead jug over the ice cubes, my sister came running into the kitchen. "Come quick," she said, "your car fell!"

"My car what?" I asked (I could feel my eyes widening in disbelief).

"It fell! Didn't you hear the crash? What're you, deaf? I was turning the crank, and I could feel it slowly start to roll backwards because of the incline; then it fell of the jack! I told you to move it to a flat area, did you listen? You're so stupid!" she chided with a laugh mixed with not a little satisfaction on her countenance at having been proved right.

Here's a photo of the Prius with one corner completely on the ground (along with my Edvard Munchian response):

When I saw the result of the great tragedy, I was deeply troubled; it seemed that the enormous weight of the car having fallen on the axle must have caused some damage; after all, doesn't that part of the car need to be perfectly circular in order to reduce friction and maintain a smooth ride? (Well, doesn't it? Again, I'm about as far from an automotive expert as one can be, but dropping one's car on an important instrument just seemed undesirable.)

Now that the front part of the car was completely prostrate, it was impossible to get the jack underneath it in the proper position. After a few futile attempts, I capitulated and got out my triple A card.

The triple A man had a special, much more efficient type of jack, and he was able to slide it under the car and lift it up, then re-position it properly while he put on the spare. (Incidentally, he did ask what had happened, and I felt great shame that my complete tire-changing ignorance and incompetence shone so saliently and incontrovertibly in the presence of such an expert. Fortunately, he avoided condescension and simply suggested that next time if I didn't want to move the car all the way to a flatter part of land, I position the tires perpendicular, instead of parallel, to the incline, so that it wouldn't roll backwards. After receiving this pearl of wisdom, it seemed so obvious, yet had somehow theretofore eluded me.)

Moral of the story: Just save yourself the trouble, and call AAA in the beginning.
If you want a better look at the devestation my complete ineptitude wrought, click on the photo at right for a close-up.