Finally, a Blog-Worthy Event

Last night, Cath and I decided to go to Millennium Park for a simulcast the Chicago Opera Theater was doing of Don Giovanni. The Theater group was performing the opera live in the Harris Theater down the street, and they did a live simulcast on the "jumbotron" at Pritzker Pavilion. It was a little cold, but we hung around for most of it. It's always fun to go to Millennium Park - a beautiful part of the city we don't visit nearly enough.
As we were leaving downtown, we stopped off to pick up a video and jumped on the train to meet our car that we'd left at the Ashland Green Line station. We got there and started driving home when we noticed the car was riding sort of funny. So, we pulled over and found the front right tire totally flat. Catherine drove the car to a nearby gas station, and I got out, ready to change the tire.

"Don't worry, babe, we'll be out of here in ten minutes," I said.

I started jacking the car up when a man came by carrying one of those large squeegee things you wash your windows with.

"Y'all got a flat? I can help with that. I used to work in a tire shop."

"Oh, thanks, but I think I've got it. No big deal," I said.

"Look, man, I'm just a man out trying to earn a few bucks," he said.

"I understand that, and I really appreciate it, but we don't have any cash, so we really can't help you out I'm afraid."

He started to leave. I jacked the car up and placed the wrench on the lug nuts. I twisted and lurched and jerked the wrench - nothing! I tried every lug nut with the same result - not gonna budge.

Our friend with the squeegee came back.

"Man, you don't know what you're doing. Here, let me do it."

"Be my guest," I said, "it won't budge."

The man gave it his best effort, too, with no movement.

This went back and forth for quite a while; both of us jumping up and down on the wrench and none of the lug nuts moving at all."

Finally, Cath convinced to call a tow truck for help. We called a nearby service station, and they said they could send someone out within 45 minutes. So, we sat in the car and waited. I fumed, sulked, and lamented the blow to my masculinity, while Cath tried to cheer me up - "at least it's not snowing, at least we're together..."

Finally, after being there for about an hour, a tow truck comes. The driver is a short, stocky guy with a goatee and a name patch reading "Jimmy." He's got a mostly-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips as he approaches the car.

"You gotta jack?" he asks.

"Sure do. And I gave it my best effort. Those lug nuts are really stuck."

He proceeded to do the exact same thing we did with the exact same outcome.

"Son of a bitch, son of a bitch..." he kept saying. "Those sons of bitches are stuck there good."

We finally decided we'd have to tow it somewhere. At this time, it's 11 pm.

"I know a guy on Western and Touhy who might be open."

Umm...no, I think. For those of you outside Chicago - that's very far away from Grand/Ashland. Jimmy continues to make phone calls, speaking exclusively in Spanish, and finally he turns to me and says "You just hit the lotto, man. I know a guy on Chicago and Cicero. He owns a pneumatic drill, and he's willing to do it for you tonight. You just hit the lotto."

Now, I'm thinking I'll take Western and Touhy - Chicago and Cicero (though very near our house) is a pretty bad neighborhood. And it's 11:30 when we're going to get there. But, really, we're pretty much at this guy's mercy here. So, we go.

Jimmy turns out to be a nice guy, telling us about his "lady" and the mustang he just bought for her. Catherine is sitting between us, and she slowly comes to the realization that Jimmy might be drunk. Yikes!

We finally get to Chicago/Cicero, pull into a dark alley, and some guy with a drill comes out and changes the tire instantly. I was terrified, but the guy was incredibly nice and only wanted to charge us $5.

We paid the man and Jimmy and finally headed home. Whew!