I believe that the universe and the car-gods are conspiring against me. In October of this year I purchased a 2001 Honda Accord, my first vehicle. This was a joyous time for me. My freedom from taxis, busses and other drivers was secured and I was mobile.
Then tragedy struck in the form of a flat tire exactly one week from the purchase date. But, being the proud owner of a used automobile I was willing to accept the cost and inconvenience associated with my newfound liberty. My mechanic tells me that there is nothing wrong with my tire, and he has no explanation as to why it was flat. He charges me nothing and sends me on my way.
While spending a weekend out of town to visit some of my university friends I find that I have flattened another of my tires. Laboriously in the middle of the Gagetown military base I replace my tire with the spare. And on my way to the Canadian Tire Garage, the only open service station on Sunday, I hit a pothole so deep that I end up with a bent rim on my spare.
After getting that business resolved, with much running around on the part of a good friend of mine I was on my way, albeit with a tire that did not even come close to matching the rest and no place to stop between there and home.
Deciding that there was no good that could come out of these tires and since the snow was starting to fall I bought a set of winter tires and said good riddance to my unlucky summer set.
That is until Christmas day. Flat tire number 4. Completely different set of tires and on a wheel had so far held up better than my average. Of course, I had yet to replace my spare tire leaving me without a car for the remainder of the Christmas weekend.
I am hoping with this that I have exhausted my lifetime supply of flat tires and that my cur runs smoothly for the rest of eternity.
