Here’s the third and final part of the adventure that was my weekend.
So Jon and I are flying back to Cleveland fairly early Sunday morning, and already we’re laughing at ourselves and making fun of the day because of the T card incident. We get through our flight, no big deal, although we sat behind these girls who apparently kept Jon from sleeping on the flight like he would have liked to.
Our bag was one of the very first ones out (which never happens when I fly alone. Mine is almost always one of the last) so we headed out to catch the shuttle to the lot we parked in. We stood around for a little while with no shuttle, but guess who showed up? Yep, Jon’s favorite group of girls. Not only were they chatty but they also were smokers. It took less than 5 minutes for us to decide to walk to the lot.
We were convinced it would be better since we had run the distance Friday evening. After thoroughly exploring multiple levels of a parking structure (not the one we entered through), wandering out of the parking structure into a lot, crossing that lot and another, and ducking under the parking gate into our lot.
We were laughing the whole time about our “bronze star” day. And about how sketchy we must look on any security cameras watching us trek through.
Getting to the car we were just happy to be able to head home. The big plan was to spend the rest of the day lying around the apartment recovering from being on the go all weekend.
And then I noticed my front right tire was flat.
Yeah. Major mood killer.
It was cold out (thankfully it wasn’t raining or snowing though) so we decided to just do it ourselves instead of waiting for AAA – since they can take forever to come.
And by “we” I clearly mean Jon was changing the tire while I supervised. Obviously my stronger skill.
It was all going fairly well, until it came time to take the tire off. I don’t know if it was frozen, or rusted on, or just plain stuck but that tire was not coming off. The instruction manual just said to lift tire off. We both know you simply take the tire off, it just wouldn’t come off. We spent a while just trying to get it off. We called several people to come up with other tricks to try, and finally gave in and called AAA.
After being told they’d come sometime in the next hour, we decided to wait inside the car. Jon started slowly lowering the jack…. and the tire came loose. Figures.
So I call and cancel the AAA guy while Jon put the little doughnut on my car. It looked tiny even on my little car. Strange enough that I didn’t feel comfortable driving so Jon drove while I used the GPS to find the closest tire repair shop.
Can anyone explain why most repair places are closed on Sunday? I would think that a lot more people can go get their things fixed on a Sunday than a weekday….
But anyway, we finally found a place that was open but they said they wouldn’t be done fixing the tire until Monday morning. So if we were going to have to wait that long we figured we’d go closer to home so we could get Jon’s car and not be stuck there.
We found the same tire repair place as close to our apartment as we could, and I called ahead to check the time. They said they could fix it in like 2 hours so we decided to head straight there instead of going home for Jon’s car. We rolled the tire in, and they told us they couldn’t fix the tire because the nail was too close to the edge. Apparently the patch isn’t allowed to touch any part of the edge of the edge the tire.
Since my tires came from Costco though, it’s covered under their warranty. Meaning they’ll fix the tire, or if they can’t they’ll pro-rate the life left on the tire and take the value off of the cost of a new one. So obviously I wanted to do that instead of paying full price for a tire. Besides, tires at Costco probably cost less too.
Unfortunately the Costco is back the way we had come from, towards the airport. Making the 30 minute drive on a spare wasn’t so fun the first time. We weren’t excited about doing it again.
We make it to Costco and circle it looking for the Tire Repair center. I haven’t noticed that portion of a lot of Costco’s, but the one I’m used to has its own little area and is very clearly marked. This one wasn’t. The sign marking it was inside the entrance to the store, not outside. So I went in to check while Jon sat in the car just outside.
Apparently at this Costco you just park wherever you want and they go find your car. Too bad my car doesn’t have the remote that beeps to tell you where the car is. I have no idea how long they had to look for my car, but it couldn’t have been easy.
Sunday was also the last day of their tire sale, so they were swamped with work. They almost told me they couldn’t take me! So I think I was the last person they accepted. And they said it wouldn’t be done until 6pm (when they close) and if it wasn’t done then they would stay after to finish it.
At this point it was 330ish. Our plane landed around 11am. But killing 2 or so hours in Costco wasn’t the worst. We were both starving and there were a few groceries we. I’d been meaning to check out Costco for a few weeks anyway.
We got two kinds of cereal, some snacks, contact solution and boxers for Jon, really yummy chicken sausages, and a few other things. What didn’t we get…. eggs. The one thing that we actually needed.
About 15 minutes to 6 we headed out to check on the status of my car. It was done! I signed the paper work, and kept waiting to be told how much the tire repair was going to cost me. (And apparently their patch didn’t have the same problem as the other place.) But it didn’t cost me anything! Since the tires were under warranty they fixed them and it’s all still covered under it for the life of the tires!
Which just goes to show how much I love Costco and why. They’re just awesome, and it might have taken all day to get my issues taken care of but they did it!