Did I mention we got a flat yesterday? Oh, the pain that Philadelphia brings me. It’s insane here.
There is a city where they NEED signs that say “Do not park on sidewalk”, and “Wait for Green”. This is a city where, though a man pulled up to tell us we had a flat, it was merely to distract us long enough so’s he could cut in front of us at the light.
Not that we did not, indeed have the flat.
Heather and Shane made quick work of the tire though. I, as an art student, remained aloof from these menial processes and documented the event.
We drove on the spare out to Media, Pennsylvania, where our open mic luck took a turn for the better. We sold a couple of the NEW Heather and rob CDs, and made some friends. A couple of people recognized us from the Point – and it turned out the woman I thought was really gorgeous from Tuesday night was only 17. Typical.
Anywho – Media – nice small town. Trolley tracks past the front of the Coffee Club, trains followed by the eyes of bikers with cell phones and idling Harleys. Pennsylvanian songwriters continue to surprise me – no-one has a voice that matches their face. A marine looking guy with round glasses straight out of Vietnam proceeded to croon with the sweetest James Tayloresque sort of voice, tweaking gentle jazz chords out of his Taylor – he was the sort of guy that should pair up with Adam Day and round him out. Great night.
Then today, we got up kind of not earlyish and drove to the local Firestone tire dealer to replace our wheel.
I was expecting to have to drop like, $90 on a new wheel or something, as our rim was badly bent (presumably from me playing stupid games with puddles on poorly maintained Philly streets) and ripped away from the tire seal – but the tire guys gathered round and sucked their moustaches for a moment, and then backed away as another man came forth from the shadows carrying a mallet.
A huge “tire, you been BAD” mallet.
He proceeded to beat the shit out of tire. He pumped it up, and handed it back to us. Presumably it was more a matter of tire behaviour than physical damage, as this disciplinary action had the desired effect, and the tire has let out nary a hiss since.
He charged me a CD. Good deal. I have a new modicum of faith for the Philly tire dealer.
By the way, I bloody well ought to document THIS triumph. Heather’s stick-shift driving is now getting really really good… she gets to drive for the rest of the Trip! WHEEE!!
Oh, and Heather says if I eat my own eyelashes, my wishes turn to crap. I think that’s bullshit.
1 thought on “Sept 6th, 2003.”
I LOVE the irony that since then Heather really HAS done just about all the driving. It’s to the point now that it’s an EVENT when I take the wheel.