Adventures in car maintenance

One night, a couple of weeks ago, I got a puncture coming home from work.
It was a sunny evening, and I'd opted to take the scenic route -- winding country roads, with fields running along either side.
And the occasional tw*t in a BMW that would come flying round the corner, not expecting to see anyone coming the other way. I pulled almost all the way over to one side, and that was when I must have run over something.
At first, I was concerned by the odd noise my car was making.. I expect the tyre at this point still had enough pressure to be handling normally, and I really should have checked it out when I got home, but the noise soon stopped I thought little more about it.

Until the next day.

Driving to work I noticed a couple of times the handling wasn't normal, and resolved to look at it this time, since I hadn't thought to before I left for work.
Once I arrived at the office, I took a quick look at the tyre and was sure it looked flatter than it should. What next? I wasn't sure. As part of learning to drive a few years back I had to learn how to change a tyre, it's straight forward enough -- jack up car, loosen wheel nuts, remove wheel, replace wheel, tighten wheel nuts and you're done. But I was also advised it's usually better to get a breakdown repair service to change it for you, and you'd be lucky to be able to remove the wheel nuts on your own.

I called my breakdown service for the first time ever and they agreed to come out in less than an hour, and true to their word they did. The wheel changed to the spare, off the guy went again -- but my own adventures were just beginning. The wheel he removed was completely hosed, possibly as a result from driving to work partially deflated and then driving it out to the breakdown truck when it was completely flat, but I got it replaced pretty cheaply so after something like a week of driving round on the spare, I figured I should really get the spare off and this new wheel on.

As I said before, it's very straight forward to change a tyre -- so without even bothering to get changed out of my shirt and tie I set to work. I got the jack out of its secret compartment in the boot, then sat on the drive trying to work out how to transform it into a robot. Or something other than the solid lump it appeared to be. I eventually found how it opened and turned into a jack, and got the car raised without too much trouble -- although I did wonder if it was safe on a gravel driveway.

With the car in the air, I set to undoing the wheel nuts. I then found it was probably a better idea to have done this before jacking up the car, since the wheel kept spinning. So down it came again. I must have been out there for an hour, stamping on the tyre iron, trying to stand on the thing, everything I could, trying to get even the first wheel nut to move. Nothing. Eventually I had to admit defeat and that I was not a real man.

A couple of days later at work it occurs to me that working in a bus depot where they are constantly doing maintenance works on vehicles I was in an ideal place to either enlist someone's help, or at least borrow a piece of equipment better than my Fisher Price car maintenance kit. It was getting towards the end of the day, so I found the depot manager who referred me to a passing engineer -- and he in turn took me to his van, where he gave me a much better and extendible tyre iron.

This time there was no delay in working out the jack, and raising the car -- and with the new tool and a bit of elbow grease, the wheel nuts came off without a problem. I didn't even mind that I was crouched in the car park, in the rain, and getting oil on my white shirt. What I couldn't understand, though, is why with all the wheel nuts undone I still couldn't get the wheel off. No amount of pulling it would budge the wheel, and I considered myself once again a failure as a man.

Back on went the wheel nuts -- although I had the foresight to only tighten them with my shitty tyre iron so as to be able to undo them later. As a brief aside, it occurs to me this must seem very homoerotic -- lots of talk of nuts and extendible tools and heaving and pulling. But I found the engineer after a brief search, returned to him his tool, and he asked if I'd been successful. Removing the wheel nuts? Absolutely. After that? Nothing. Simple, he told me, go get a hammer and give the wheel a whack with it.

I couldn't find a hammer in the storeroom he pointed me to -- and was very aware I really shouldn't have been down there, poking around in storerooms, helping myself, so didn't want to linger. On my way back to the car, though, I saw a toolbox open on the side with a hammer on the top -- so I swiped it and took it back to the car. Once again, off came the wheel nuts and, annoyed that it was taking so long, I gave the tyre a kick.

No need the hammer, then, as the wheel came right off. Having got the cart before the horse, I quickly jacked up the car and took the spare wheel off. From there it was finally as easy as it should be -- get the new wheel on, tighten the wheel nuts, lower car, and you're done. All that was left then was to surreptitiously return the hammer to the random toolbox I'd found, and go home.

I think we can probably write off "motor mechanic" from the list of possible career options for me, even if I did eventually get the wheel changed on my own, I think I get a D Minus in being a man.