I Drive on Tire Plugs, Not Tires

by Mary
(Holbrook, New York)

This is the truth -- even I can't believe how unlucky I am with tires.

To me, tires are the thing that holds my plugs together. I must get a flat at least twice a year. Sometimes twice a week!!! My mechanic recently asked me, "Do you, like, drive on the shoulder or something?"

Two years ago, my mother was dying of cancer and I went to have routine maintenance done on my car. While I was there, the mechanic told me I needed four tires. Because I was doing so much driving, I decided to just get it over with, so I had him change all four while I was there.

Four days later, I was driving to the hospice and I heard the all-too-familiar tick, tick, tick coming from my tire. I just rolled up the window thinking, "I can't deal with this." After visiting my mom, I looked at my brand new tire. Yup, a screw was sticking out of it. I ran to the first tire place I could locate on a Saturday afternoon, and the guy took advantage of me, telling me it wasn't their policy to plug tires ever. Bingo, five brand new tires in one week.

About a month later, you guessed it, tick-tick-tick. Same tire, only this time it was a nail. My mom had passed already, so I wasn't doing so much running. I was able to take this tire to my mechanic, who plugged it. That's tire plug one.

Later that same week, I come home, get out of my car in the driveway and I hear hissssssssssssssssssss. Another nail, another tire, only this time it was completely flat and I had to call roadside assistance. Yup, another brand new tire gets plugged.

Well, finally I had a year or so of peace. Then, my Dad died. I am emptying his house and I see my car in the driveway with a flat. I have about a 40 mile drive home and it is late on a Friday, so I decide I have enough air to make it -- maybe, maybe not, but whatever. So I get on the Long Island Expressway. There are gas stations at every exit, but suddenly I am a little worried. The LIE is a scary road to drive even under the best circumstances. Late Friday afternoon traffic heading out east just defies description. It's like being on the Autobahn, only with no room to slow down if you need to.

Around here we have DOT service trucks that patrol the highways for stranded motorists. Fortunately for me, there was a truck on the side of the road helping another driver. He pumped me up with air and I drove as fast as possible to my mechanic, who I now have on speed dial.

Another tire plug.

A month later, Easter, I am driving to my brother's house. I meet the pothole from hell. Hearing that lovely hiss coming from my front left tire, I pull over in front of a car that also apparently encountered the same pothole. The guy is changing his own tire and offers to change mine when he is done. My tire is mangled.

So here it is Easter Sunday and cars are whizzing by. No one stops or offers to help. Some people are actually honking and giving up the finger.

The guy changes my tire for me and I drive another 40 miles on a donut. At 50 MPH, people on the Expressway have no patience for me and are cursing me out. I love religious holidays!

After dinner, I leave my brother's house to find out what a donut looks like without any air. My brother fills it with air and I drive like hell to get home.

The donut held up overnight, and I brought my tire to my mechanic, who simply cannot stop laughing at me.

The tire, believe it or not, was fine. My rim was bent. My mechanic was able to repair it, but had to rotate all my tires to get the repaired rim onto the back.

So folks, ride with me at your own risk. I think I have some kind of magnetic pull that sends nails and screws screaming onto my tires.

I do have to say, I am lucky. Although I have had tire trauma pretty much since I started driving 30 years ago, I am always lucky enough to get a flat at home or somewhere near where a good samaritan was able to help me.

Maybe I should buy a tire plug kit or even better buy some shares in a tire plug company.