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Friday, June 10, 2016

My Fear of Flat


Everybody fears something.

Some fears are warranted and some fears are downright silly. Well, silly when you’re not the one who’s fearing. I have a silly fear…

I fear flat tires.

When I see people on the side of the road with a flat tire I immediately pray to the God of Flat Tires to have their tires suddenly inflate so they can go on with whatever it was they were doing before the dreadful “Hsssssssssssssssss” and lopsided drive that forced them to the side of the road. (Can you sense my anxiety when reading that sentence?)

My fear began years ago when I was a husky teen (aka fat-assed). Yes, I was husky and frequently bought pants in the husky section of Sears Roebuck. Some people would say it was baby fat, but once puberty hits, it’s no longer baby fat, it’s just plain ‘ole fat.

So there I was a teenage fat-assed kid with the back tire of my Sears ten-speed flat. I walked my bike up the street to the nearest Shell Gas Station to fill my tire with air.


The first thing I saw was my arch-enemy’s mother at the gas pump filling her car with gas.  I looked at her. She looked at me. There was eye contact, but certainly no acknowledgment. An omen of things to come…

I must confess, at that time of my life I was a virgin-air-pumper. I had no idea how to properly fill a tire, so I kept filling the tire until it felt real hard and full.

I then climbed on top of the bike to ride it home.  Once my fat-ass hit the seat there was a loud pop and an extra-long “Hsssssssssssssssss.”  My tire blew like an exploding fart that shakes your body to its core.

My arch-enemy’s mother heard it all and saw me and my fat-ass on my bike with a now exploded tire. That bitch smirked. Smirked!

All I could do was slide myself off the bike, pretend I wasn’t completely humiliated and wheel the flat-tire bike home.

From that one incident came a deep rooted fear of flat tires.

Whenever my car warning light goes on saying the tires need air, I immediately get myself to the car dealer and have them do it. 

I refuse to ever pump air into a tire again. I’d rather walk or crawl than to suffer again the fear-inducing ego deflation I felt when I over pumped my tire those many years ago.

And that's my silly fear... my fear of flat... tires.


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