My 4th of July literally started off with a bang when my back rear tire exploded while I was driving to work. I was on a busy two-lane highway traveling 60 miles an hour when I ran over a nail. Damn nail! The car swerved into oncoming traffic, but I was able to get the car under control, and coasted to the side of the road. I kept my cool until the car stopped, and then I freaked out. Unlike the rest the of civilized world, I don’t own a cell phone, so I was basically screwed. After I calmed down, I decided it was best to keep limping down the side of the road on my rim and look for help.
Less than a mile down the road I saw a big white farmhouse with rows of pickup trucks appointed with gun racks parked in the front yard. I noticed a group of men mulling around a barbeque grill, so I pulled off the road into the driveway and walked up to the gathering of good old boys who were guzzling their 4th of July beer. I had a feeling this was going to be my lucky day.
Me: “Good afternoon gentlemen. I’m sorry to intrude on your party, but I’m a nurse going to Hospital X, and I have a flat tire.” I smiled while pointing to my hospital ID that I was wearing on my sweater and I said, “Can one of you gentlemen help me out?”
Good Old Boy #1: “Shoot little lady, you’re a nurse?” Everyone jumped to their feet. “We’ll be glad to help you out. Come on guys. Someone throw me another can of beer and let’s go!”
While I was standing around watching my newly acquired pit crew of slightly tipsy men change my tire, Good Old Boy #2 brought me a hot dog off the grill and a diet soda. He apologized for not bringing me a beer, but he said he knew I couldn’t drink because I was going to work. He said that he and his wife really appreciate the nursing care they always receive at Hospital X, and that he and his friends were really happy that they could help out a nurse. The good old boys changed my tire in less than twenty minutes, and I was back on the road again.
I’m writing this post from my Toyota dealership while I wait for my new tire to be mounted on the car. The old tire is DOA. I’ve gotten the word that buying a new tire is going to be an expensive proposition. Too bad the Toyota mechanic wasn’t at yesterday’s picnic, because everyone, especially drunken good old boys, love nurses.