Today was a day of slow reaction. When they say “5 minutes is all it takes to be a hero” today was the day I missed my mark.
My tire blew on the way to work, and the heavy rain made finding a place to pull over hard. I didn’t think it was too bad at first. There was a loud rumbling noise, I heard something snap, then silence.
After another couple hundred meters an odor began to rise. Soon it became overwhelming despite having the windows rolled up. What tipped me off to the severity of the situation was when my steering went funny. I’ve driven in the rain plenty of times, but this time I had been sliding everywhere. Unable to keep myself straight I pulled over as soon as I could.
The issue was that the darkness of 5Am made finding a safe spot hard.
Fourtunetly I found a turn off. Pulling over I inspected the damages.
It Was Bad
The tire was blown to bits. Due to the bend in the rim I could only guess that I had been driving without rubber for a solid kilometer. The tire was smoking, with pieces of what looked like tar crumbling out of the holes in whatever rubber still clinged to the rim.
It was pissing rain. There was no jack in my trunk and my shift was starting 30minutes.
I ran to the highway drastically trying to flag someone down. Eventually the bus terminal opened up and I had coffee with the bus crew; unforutently there industrial jack wouldn’t fit underneath my car. If the tire was flat, then it could have worked; however the rims brought me too low.
At 7 am I became desperate. I ran towards cars as they drove in the street. I need the money to get out of Nelson. Eventually, a wonderfully friendly man pulled over and helped me out. It felt like a raw experience, changing that tire in record time in the pissing rain.
Darting to work, my manager could only laugh when he saw the carnage and remains of my tire. There was no mistaking the truth was told this morning.
Work itself was fine. The job’s easy, it feels cool to build shit, and my coworkers are awesome. The commute sucks, but I’d rather commute two hours than work part-time hours.
We finished early due to the rain. I got dropped off in town 1 kilometer from the mechanic that I dropped my car off. I had 20 minutes to walk across town and reach it.
Checking my phone, and reading a flyer I picked up in town I became distracted from the world around me. Hearing a honk I looked up to see an old man trip over a tow-line.
The fall looked slow. I yelled out asking if he was ok. Only silence. He laid there. I ran over. He turned his head reveailing a deep gash, with cartilage spilling out. Goops of white pussy cartilage, and blood. Lots of blood. I froze. I offered him a hand to help him up. His eyes were terrified, and shocked. I couldn’t make words.
What Went Wrong
I’ve seen injuries before. This was different. It was bad. It was made worse by my pulling him up. I should have sat him down. I should have asked if he was ok, checked for signs of a concussion.
Instead I stood there in shock and disblief. Horrified by the sight of drooping cartilage and a gaping open head wound. He kept asking for a woman, and as soon as she arrived I allowed her too take control of the scene.
Looking Out For Numero Uno Feels Wrong
I was still still 300m away from the store, and they were closing in 5 minutes. Suddenly I was jogging. Was I running towards my destination? Or Away from my cowardice? Was I right to just pass him off like that? Should I have been more involved?
It may be trivial to ponder such questions now, but they have been haunting me all night. Something tells me that was a life changing injury, hence why I had such an awful feeling in my gut.
Maybe my gut was whisking me away because I needed to get my car or else I’d be stuck away from home in the rain with no way to get to work in the morning. And I got it just in time. They said I was lucky they decided to lock the shop before the locking the door. I reached the place 7 minutes after regular closing time.
Either way, I need to get to bed.