Changing a tire

When your friend Barb drives up and you hear a prolonged "PSSSSSS" and you're pretty sure it's not Barb making that sound, and you know it's not you, then it's your lucky day. You get to change a tire.

All my life I've longed for the chance to change a flat, preferably on a busy highway at rush hour in a downpour, when the full drama of the procedure could be savoured. But it's never happened to me. Not once.

I didn't take it personally when Barb was the lucky one. I just worried that she'd fight me for the tire iron. But by some miracle, Barb was easily distracted. I lured her into the house and while she was talking (bragging, really) about her luck, I snuck back outside to work on the flat.

But then I immediately snuck back inside, because I remembered two things:

1. I had some foxy polyester coveralls hanging in the closet.
2. There would never be a better day to wear them.

I slipped into those coveralls like James Bond slides into conversation with a stacked European vixen who later reveals she's wearing a pistol in her garter.

After donning my coveralls I paused stealthily on the stairs. I overheard Barb on the phone asking her mechanic to make a house call. Strangely, he was unreceptive. His loss.

I nipped outside to the waiting '99 Malibu, listing sadly to the leeward. I wrestled the spare out of the trunk. It was fresh, with little black rubber nubs sticking out all over the surface like it was waiting in line for an aesthetician to perform the depilatory arts. Sorry about these metaphors; the afterglow from my tire-changing experience makes metaphors flow like industrial effluent from the headwaters of my imagination.

Here are the steps for changing a tire, should you ever need them. And I hope you do.

1. Park the car on a level spot. Put the emergency brake on.
2. Block the wheel kitty-corner to the flat using logs, wood blocks, rocks or professional wheel chocks if you own 'em (and who wouldn't be proud to be packing their own personal chocks).
3. Get the tire iron (aka lug wrench) out of the trunk. It might be L-shaped, or X-shaped. Use it to loosen the (usually plastic) nut covers on the hubcap (if you have a hubcap). Take the hubcap off.
4. Now loosen the lug nuts a few turns (counterclockwise). This is the hardest part of the job. Lug nuts are put on by automotive robots who take their jobs too seriously. At first, you'll swear those nuts are welded on. Then you'll just swear. TIP: The tight nuts problem is the reason to carry a 2-foot length of hollow steel pipe in your trunk. Slide that baby over the end of your ineffectual lug wrench and it'll give you the kind of leverage you had with your first boyfriend.
5. Don't take the nuts right off. You want them to hold the wheel in place until you have the car jacked up.
6. Find your jack, a celebration of Archimedes in everyday life. Jacks are hapless and awkward but that's only part of their charm. They're strong as blazes. I've used them to lift houses off foundations. Jacks rock.
7. Find your owner's manual, which will tell you where to put the jack, and they're not kidding. (usually just in front of the rear wheel or just behind the front wheel). Mount the jack on the car's frame (not the flimsy body). The frame is a rusty-looking bar that runs the length of the vehicle. Start to screw the jack up until it connects with the frame, then keep going until the flat tire is an inch or two off the ground. This takes a while. Savour it.
8. Once the tire is off the ground you can completely remove the lug nuts.
9. The flat tire is now hanging from the threaded studs. The instructions in your owner's manual will say, "Simply remove the wheel." That's a little piece of hell right there because those manual writers have never heard of the word "corrosion", which will cause the wheel to bind on the axle, especially if you have aluminium wheels and the axle is steel. TIP: Keep a rubber mallet in the trunk, so you can wail on the wheel rim and loosen the corrosion. It took me five minutes of pounding on that baby before I could coax it off.
10. Lift the spare tire onto the studs. If you're baffled by which way to put it on, look for the air supply valve. It should face out, available for action.
11. Replace the lug nuts. Snug them a few turns each, in a star pattern so the wheel tightens perpendicular to the axle.
12. Lower the jack. Start to feel the rush of emotional release.
13. Tighten the lug nuts as tight as you can.
14. Replace the hubcap.
15. Drive the flat to your mechanic and get it plugged or replaced. And brag incessantly to the entire garage full of technicians. And walk with the swagger of competence, no longer a flat tire newbie.
16. Never stop reminding Barb that you've got coveralls and she doesn't.