Today’s adventure gives new meaning to the term, “Fallapartment“. When my wife came home this afternoon, this thing was waiting for her in the driveway.
It evidently had fallen off of the house in the wind, because there are no other buildings near the driveway, so it must have come from the Fallapartment.
So the Fallapartment, is quite literally, falling apart.
Hey! Got nails?
The result of driving over the unseen board was predictable.
Yep. A flat tire. And here is the little bugger that did it.
The rumor is we get to keep the nail as a special souvenir of the Fallapartment. Perhaps we can have it framed as a reminder not to ever do this ever again.
I tried turning the tire over and running it on the round side, but that didn’t work. So I had to swap it out for the spare…. in the dark…. in the rain…. uphill both ways…. no …. wait… that’s a different story. Anyway, I’m too old for this sh….. stuff.
Of course, the spare tire was flat…. and the jack was seized up. But we persevered and pumped up the spare and oiled the jack and got it done. The car is sitting nicely on its donut spare. Tomorrow we have an appointment at the shop to get the real tire fixed.
And now I have two questions.
- How much is this going to cost us?
- Can we get away with deducting it from the next rent check?