This is a picture of the flat tire that inflicted itself on me last week. Following a particularly unpleasant mishap with the car navigation system, I decided that a quick pit stop at the Hara Museum to pick up a last minute Hannukah gift might be a much-needed pick-me-up. Though the museum's current offering is a show of contemporary Korean art that leaves me cold, the museum's gift shop is the best in town. Besides I love the building -- an early Modernist confection encircling an ample green lawn cum sculpture garden -- and its user-friendly parking. After stowing the car out front, I headed inside only to learn that the shop is open just to museum visitors. (What's that all about ???) Though I managed to talk my way in, I came out empty-handed and got into the car fully intending to return directly home -- I was starving and my eyes felt ready to evict my contacts.
As I pulled out of the museum's gated entrance, I heard a loud banging on the back of the car authored by a frantic, arm-waving delivery man. The reason? My rear tire was nearly flat. Scary. I wonder how long I had been driving around in this compromised condition. I promptly called David who promptly called the Toyota dealer. Conveniently located just a couple of miles away, they offered to send someone to help me out of my fix. About 30 minutes later, a suit-wearing auto exec showed up and, after assessing the situation, he removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and changed the tire. Together we surveyed the damage: some general wear and tear (not the cause of the flat) plus a sharp object embedded in the treads (aha!). Once the temporary tire was installed, I drove to the dealer, turned the car in and very happily hopped a cab home.
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