There's a reason I'm a huge dork who reads instructions on everything. That reason, today, is tire chains. Yesterday, I seemed to be the only person in town with chains on my tires (Cardo put them on late Sunday night, because he loves me (yeah, yeah, yeah)), but I wasn't going to drive with them on today. Okay, so it turns out I wasn't going to drive anywhere today.
I unhooked the chains and backed up my car, to release the chains. Pic and I got out to check. The plan was to pick up the chains and unceremoniously throw them back in their plastic case. It wasn't to be. I didn't fully unhook them and now they're stuck.
I can't come near to explaining how completely idiotic I feel about this. I called Cardo, almost in tears of frustration and anger, and told him he would have to help me fix the stupid situation when he got home. I really feel stupid. I feel like a stereotypical girl (definitely 'girl' and not 'woman') who has to have a guy come and rescue her from this mess she's made. (Stereotypical guys don't need help with these kinds of things. They need help with things like sewing buttons and creating birthday cakes...I'm not much help there either.) Ugh. I hate stereotypes and I hate fulfilling them.
Okay, so I just thought I'd share, get this off my chest, because 'talking about it' is what girls do, right?
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
um...duh
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2 comments:
Um, I did the exact same thing on Saturday. To make matters somewhat worse, though, I couldn't even understand the instructions to begin with. I stopped on the side of the road to put them on, but just ended up freezing as I stood outside my car reading and re-reading the instructions and looking at the pictures that just did not help comprehend just what it was that I was supposed to do. I asked a man who was fiddling with his chains if he understood how to put them on, and he said that he had no clue. I drove on, stopped at one of the places where men are parked to put chains on for stupid people like me, charging $30 for my ignorance. As my chains were being put on, though, the man who I had asked earlier pulled up next to me to have his put on for him, too.
Anyway, when it was time to take them off, I once again pulled over, attempted, as you did, to unhook the chains and back up. Fortunately, though, I just unhooked them on one tire. When I looked under my car to see if all was kosher, I found that the chains where tangled with something under my car. Luckily, though, there were two semi-truck drivers helping a girl one car ahead of me. I asked them if there was a chance that I tangled the chains with something on my car, and they confirmed my fears by saying, yes, indeed, there is a chance. But nice guys that they were, once the finished helping the girl in front of me, the walked on over to my car, wriggled under my car and somehow untangled the chains, unhooked the other chain, and tra-la!, it was done. I thanked them, and one of them turned to me and said, "No problem, sweetie." Yeah, it made me feel like such a girl, and not in a good way. Then again, what would have happened if that guy (the one who also didn't know how to put the chains on and had to pay for it) had taken his chains off incorrectly? Would he have been helped? Maybe not. So maybe being a girl isn't all that bad after all.
Are we all stuck in the same stereotypical universe this week? Our truck wouldn't start yesterday, so what do I do? I call Mike, as if he could help me from work. He suggested jumping it with the car, and while I know how to work jumper cables, I decided it was a "boy job" and just moved the car seat to the other car, all the while swearing under my breath and throwing things.
I consider myself faily liberated, but there are still some "boy" things I just won't do. I know, it's lame. I don't care.
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