If I were a boy...then I wouldn't be writing this post.

Not to be such a total girl about it, but last night, for the love of me, I experienced my first ever car flat tire.

Two years ago,after attending my birthday party, my good friend Rolls experienced a tire mishap while driving at South Expressway and my guy friends came to rescue and got home at around 3 in the morning. They showed me pictures of Rolls’ flat tire and it sure looked scary but she was able to change tires and go home safe after getting it fixed. She was driving alone and it’s a good thing our guy friends were there to help.

That’s one of the reasons I am not much into getting my own car. I more interested in getting my own townhouse/condo/house and lot because I am very big on getting my own space and have no qualms about commute . Plus I don’t really know if I am really ready for such responsibility because: 1) I surely can’t change tires, 2) my attention span in all the car-mechanical-talk is just about 5 minutes 3) I enjoy being the passenger after learning how to drive when I was seventeen.

It’s a good thing I noticed the strange sound coming from my side because I could’ve gone out of the University campus easily, but God doesn’t put helpless naive people like me in places where I could not be helped. I parked the car right infront of my office building at half past ten in the evening and while waiting to be rescued, my mom called for help and within 5 minutes, the nice people from the University Police Force and UPLB’s Community Support Brigade (CSB) immediately came over to help.

Last night it slowly dawned on me that my father’s gone because if he were still alive, he’d know what to do with the tires. It’s a good thing he kept all his complete tools inside the car, I just need to organize it. But when we were “rescued” last night, I was told that “since we’re all girls, I might as well get the dragon-something-something-to-lift-the-car-up”, so that I won’t have to get down on all fours. ( I did get on my all fours trying to help the guys out, only to be told that I lifted the car a little too high than what is required so I had no choice than be one of those girls who sits on the side walk, waiting for the fixing to be done.)

Flat Tire

Ransacked the caru to find the tools

So my next peg is to channel the Mechanic Megan Fox in Transformers into easily checking the car like it’s some sort of make-up kit.

Photo from Google

But damn, I wish if I get a tire mishap again, I was hoping to look this good:

The Demure (Source)

The Posh (Source)

The HOTTIE (Source)

Someone told me before that when he was a teenager and he asked his dad to teach him to how to drive, he was told and taught how to clean the car first, then change tires and finally the atras-abante (forward-backward) then proper driving lesson/training/self-discovery. You see, my father did not want to teach my sister Aprille and me how to drive, it was my mom who secretly enrolled me and my sister to a driving school (actually it was Aprille who went to a proper Driving school, I was taught by a freelance driver-trainer) so that we know how to drive before we turn 18.

If it wasn’t for my sneaky mom who made sure that we’d learn how to drive, then I wouldn’t have the chance to rush my dad to the hospital. I know some people would ask how can I drive without knowing the basics such as changing tires, but believe me, I wanted my father to teach me but we just couldn’t last a 15-minute driving/safety session without getting into some petty father-daughter argument.

Oh dear Good Lord, please do not let me entertain the thought of marrying someone, getting in a relationship with a guy just so I have someone to change my car’s tires. 

I told you if I were a boy, I definitely would not be writing this post.