Settin' the Way-Back machine.... The Punk

Okay, so since I have a moment or two, I'll go on ahead and talk about some of the other stories that I keep saying I'll talk about, then never do.

So: Set the Way-Back machine for November 2006... And I'll write the post as it was just after the incident happened :D

---The Punk--

For the last few months, I have been suffering from a wobbly wheel... not really a wobbly wheel per se, but at about 40 Km a hour or so there is a noticable bump in my steering wheel.

I've checked the tire, but it seems to be fine (A little worn, maybe, but fine nonetheless).

It has been getting progressively worse and so about a week ago (This was in November, keep in mind :D), I gathered up my neighbor and we went to the local Yellow Hat (Which is Japanese for "Auto Parts"... okay, so it's really Japanese for "Yellow Hat"... but it is an Auto Parts Store... I don't know what a Yellow 10 gallon hat has to do with Auto Parts, but it makes sense to the Japanese...).

We pull in there and see that they are having a sale on tires. This is very convinient since I believe my problem is in my tire and therefore I need new tires.

I find a tire that I like, in my cars' size, and the price looks good (About $100, so that should be about $25 a tire...)... what does this Kanji mean? I ask my neighbor, who is far better at Japanese than I...

Oh, he says, that means "Per unit" as in $100 per tire...

My eyes get very large... Oh... I say simply...

And we leave... $500 for putting tires on the car (I have a normal spare on the back) is a little much for me.. in fact, $200 was a little much for me at the very end of the month.

So I continue driving about.

So, it is raining, a cold, nasty November rain and I am on my way to school when the bumping on my steering becomes almost uncontrollable and as I start driving from a light, becomes really obnoxious... so I turn onto a side road (It should be noted that most Japanese streets are two lanes wide exactly, and pulling over will block traffic, so I pulled onto a side street... which is one lane wide... and I'm blocking the entire road.

My right front is flat... it's so flat that it has popped off the rim of the wheel and is happily flobbling all over the place and smiling at me as if to tell me I really should have spent that $200 a while back to replace it...

So I grumlbe a little and as I get back in the car I notice a line of cars waiting patiently behind me (They can't get around me)... So, on the rim, I drive a little farther down the street and pull into some persons driveway. I would like to remind people that it is still raining... so I open the back of my car and pull out the spinner bar...

And notice there is no Jack.

Great... I have a spare on the rack behind my car... but unless I'm Hurcules, I'm not getting that tire off...

So I call my IC.

Side story: An IC is a person (Usually a stay-at-home mother) who is on call for my company to help in situations just like this one. My particular IC is about 2 months younger than me, and pretty durn cool. I really like working with her because she is a real hoot. IC's are generally fluent in English, and their primary job it to communicate with the "locals" when we have no clue what kind of trouble we are getting into.

Okay, so I'm calling my IC.

"Moshi Moshi?" She asks (Hello?)

"S-San, Punk Desu!" I say. (I have a Punk!)

Because, you see, in Japanese, the word for flat is Punkuchiyuru (Puncture)... but that's too complicated to say, so they shorten it to "Punk"... Of course a delinquent child is also called a "Punk", which I guess means the Japanese think delinquents are flat... Well...

"Oh no!" She says, switching to English, "Can you change it?"

"No! I don't have a jack!"

"Okay, I'll be there in 45 minutes (She lives quite a ways away from where I am).

By this time, I notice a man coming out of his house (The one in which I have pulled in front of), he is carrying an umbrella, and has a rather severe look on his face.

"Is there a problem?" He asks me in Japanese.

"I have a flat. But I don't have a Jack."

He looks at the flat tire and then waves to me to follow him into his garage.

I pull my car into his garage.

He pulls the jack out of his car and starts to change my tire... without so much as a comment, he changes my tire, puts the spare on and then quietly puts the jack away.

I bow a gazillion times and say thank you a lot... but he seems not really concerned...

He watches as I pull out and get back on the road... and then, as he came out, he went back into his house...

I call up S-san and tell her I'm okay, she meets me out there anyway (By that time she was already halfway to where I was). And so I tell her the story of the man at the house.

She seems pretty surprised too...

It's interesting... I mean I know I was in his driveway, but he could have done many things rather than help... I can't help but think that in America I would have been threatened with all kinds of nastiness if I hadn't moved my car to some other location to wait the arrival of my IC...

I just think that man was a really good fellow. Even with a severe face and never so much as cracking a smile once...

Hmm..

Anyway, setting the Way Back to today, I have replaced both fronts with brand-new tires and I'll be getting the backs done a little later.

I do have a jack... but it was wedged under the passenger seat... which is probably the last place (Save the Engine Compartment) that I would have looked for a jack...

Anyway, all's well that ends well...

And I have a great story of a really nice person.

--Me.