The biggest piece of beer bottle ever

I awoke around 4:30 to the sound of rain, heavy rain. OK, looks like it’ll be a wet day, I thought to myself. Around 6:30, I realized we were out of milk...Dang, meant to pick that up last night on the way home from Twilight Festival, but it was too late. I got dressed in my work clothes and headed off to Gerbes for milk and some groceries. Got home, woke everyone up, and got them ready for the day...typical morning stuff.

By the time we left for school, it was muggy and damp, but not actually raining. The ride to school was fun as usual, lots of puddles to ride through. I dropped the kids at school and headed to work on Worley. It was one of those days. Nothing went as it was supposed to. We opened the faucets, and they were the wrong ones. The grout was all streaky; we had to re-do it. Mike drove over to Lowe’s to get new faucets and grout. Before lunch, we opened the new medicine cabinet...it was broken, ARRGH! I can’t even tell you how often this stuff happens! I have such a love/hate relationship with the big box home improvement retailers, but we won’t go there.

At lunch, I rode over to Westlake’s for a replacement medicine cabinet and window covering. They only had one medicine cabinet; it was broken. They had stopped carrying the window coverings I needed. It was a total waste of time. I rode back to the house and sent Mike back to Lowe’s in his truck to get the stuff. I got the usual ribbing about being car free, "Why don’t you go get it on your bike? Hahaha" Dave teased.

"Well" I replied, "I could if you want, but it will take about 10 minutes longer. Given everything that’s already gone wrong today we are pretty tight on time. Besides, I’m the boss...so shut it."

I worked till 3:15, still time to make it to school by 3:30 to pick up the kids. I had to stop on the way out the door to answer some questions and get the guys lined out for the rest of the day. I was walking out the door at 3:20, if I rode fast I could make it on time. Three: twenty-one, phone rings, it’s Jim, the homeowner. I have to talk to him, give him a progress report. He’s been out of town all week. He’s one of our favorite clients; he’s a great guy. We have done loads of work on his house. I really have to take this call. If I try to be quick, I shouldn’t be too late to pick up the kids. The call takes some time, Jim’s mom died last night, I offer my condolensces and we discuss losing a parent. I give him the progress report and we line out stuff for next week. Given the circumstances, I can’t cut the conversation short. I get off the phone, it’s 3:35, I can still make it by 3:45, not too terribly late.

I walk out and hop on my bike, I start down the driveway. It feels really wrong. This isn’t just me bonking and hoping for a flat, so I don’t have to acknowledge my major weenie-ness. This is really wrong. I look down, my front tire is completely flat. We are talking pancake, no air what-so-ever. I have my micro-pump and a spare tube, but no spoons.

Shot! Truck! Big adrenaline dump. What to do!? I am already late. I don’t have time to change the tire, fix the flat. Why is this happening! Not again, I had like five flats during LCDC last year, not again, please. OK. Gina. Think! OK, OK. Take off the job trailer (a.k.a.-bike cart with work sign on back), pump up tire. Yeah, that’s a good idea.

Maybe I can ride it to school, pick up the kids, and ride it over to Klunk, if I can just keep it pumped up and keep my weight over the back tire. OK, OK, ummm, breathe. I try to pump up the tire, but I can’t get the freaking pump to work. Look at it. It’s set up for presta valves, I have schraders on this tube. Fumble, fumble, cuss, get it turned around, try to pump up the tire. It’s getting later. I don’t have time for this, have to get the kids. If only there was someone I could call. I still can’t get the pump to work. Finally, I get the pump attached. I think of someone to call. Sid and Simon’s dad, Mark, they ride all the time. He has a cell phone and he will be at school. I can have him get the kids and I can get them after I get the tire fixed. I should take this opportunity to say, I could have just gone back in the house and asked Mike or Dave for a ride, but I am doing LCDC and I can’t go in a car. How can I do this car-free?!

I call Mark, get his voice mail. Crap! I’ll call school, tell them what happened and that I am running late. I call school! My phone won’t work. Digital Roam! What the hill? Digital Roam?! I am in the middle of town. I push the Digital Roam button, I try dialing. I drop the phone. I pick it up. I try again. Digital Roam! Apparently, the school’s phone is no longer in service! What!? Digital Roam. I hate Digital Roam.

Somehow I got some air in the tire, which leaked out almost as quickly as I pumped it in. Clearly, won’t be riding this to school. What else can I do? What can I do? If I could just get home, about a mile away, I could ride Penelope (my sweet vintage Raleigh 3-speed) to school. I could run. I am standing in the driveway, sweating in my filthy Carhart pants and work boots, it will take about 15 minutes to get home, then I still have to ride to school, too long. I am already late.
If I could just get the phone to work. Still not working. If only I had cell numbers for Erika or Chad (other LCDC Lee School parents). Then Dave comes out and sees me hunched over my bike in the driveway fumbling with the cell phone and the bike pump, cussing under my breath.

"Gina, are you OK?"

"NO! I have a trucking flat tire! I am late getting the kids! My trucking cell phone won’t work! Not really OK?"

"Do you want a ride?"

"NO! I can’t."

"Do you want me to go get the kids?"

"NO. They’ll be disqualified. If I could just call school, but my trucking cell phone is on Digital Roam!"

"Do you want to use mine?"

"Yes!" I call school. Tell Carol I am running late, but will get there as soon as I can. Then I realize, how utterly absurd this is. If I take the ride, I can get Penelope and ride to school to get the kids. I can take my front tire to Klunk and have Karl put a Kevlar puncture proof tire on it to match my back tire, which hasn’t gone flat since I made the upgrade to Kevlar.
"OK Dave, can you take me home to get Penelope, then drop my front tire at Klunk and ask Karl to put a Kevlar tire on it? Tell him I’ll be there in about an hour."

So that’s what I did. If I hadn’t been running so late in getting my kids. If I had been able to get hold of someone else to be there with them until I could get there. If I had been thinking a little more clearly, I wouldn’t have done it, but I did. I took a one mile ride to my house to get my other bike, so I could ride to school to pick up my kids.

I rode Penelope to school, as I was heading up Broadway toward D&H, my phone rang. It was Mark Ellis. "Hi Mark. I had a flat, I was going to see if you could get the kids, but I got my other bike. It’s under control now. Thanks for calling. See you." I made it to school. They were sitting out front waiting, the last ones there. "We have to stop at Klunk on the way home guys." I told them. "Why?" "It’s a long story."

We got to Klunk, I asked Karl and Kevin if they knew what caused the flat. Kevin replied "Biggest piece of beer bottle ever." Karl agreed it was impressive. I asked if they still had it, but they had already thrown it away. Karl put the super tough puncture resistant Kevlar tire on. Hopefully, I won’t have any more flats now.

As I was riding home with the kids, I was thinking about that stupid broken beer bottle that I picked up on my fruitless ride to and from Westlake’s earlier that afternoon. The stupid broken beer bottle that forced me to ride in a car to get my bike. The stupid broken beer bottle that made me late to pick up Max and Annarose. And I thought that whoever threw that beer bottle probably didn’t throw it from a bike.