What kind of person doesn't have a jack in their car?

I am sad to say that today, I had to play the part of damsel in distress.

I got to work this morning and when I went around my car to get my bag out of the passenger seat, I noticed that my front tire was a little low. Eh... I'll just fill it at the gas station after work and get it fixed tomorrow on my day off.

*Fast-forward through [adjective] workday.*

Head out to my car and check on the tire before I get in. It's a little low, but doesn't look significantly lower than when I left it this morning. I get about halfway up the ramp when I realize what a big mistake I made.

I definitely have a flat tire.

Ok, so I was overly optimistic. I'll fix the tire and then be on my way. Too bad I have so much stuff piled up in my trunk. I'll just move it to the back seat. No big deal.

Call the roadside assistance people. They're very nice and very concerned about my safety. First three questions:
"Are you safe?" Yes.
"Is your car safe?" Yes.
"Are you off the road?" Yes.

Talk to them while I get stuff moved and get the spare tire out. It'll be 60-90 minutes. Look around for the jack... I can fix it myself by then. Maybe... Still looking for the jack. Why can't I find the jack? Where would they keep the jack? There are only so many places to hide stuff in my car. I know my car came with one... didn't it? I can't find the jack. Where could it be? Call my dad. Call my boyfriend. Call my sister. Nada.

Fine, whatever. I can do this. I go up to the parking attendant guy and ask him if he has a car nearby (duh, of course) with a jack I could borrow please. "Do you have a flat tire?" Yes. He directs me to go around the corner and look for the building engineer. He'll change my tire for me. Oh! People are so nice!

Go around the corner and don't see anyone. Look around, wander some... No one. Go back to the attendant. "Did you find him?" No. "Ok, I'll get you my jack." On the way to his car, the building engineer happens past. The attendant asks him if he has time to change my flat for me. Of course.

Take him to my car and tell him that my jack is missing, so I might have to borrow his. I take one last glance in my trunk to make sure I'm not just blind and, well, turns out I am. There's a little compartment off to the side with a cover on it to make it blend in with the rest of the bottom of the trunk. And inside that compartment? Yeah.

So he takes that from me and proceeds to change my tire for me. I tell him it's ok. I just needed the jack. (I'm really not as helpless as I seem most of the time. Really.) But he assures me that it's no trouble. (His name is Kurt, btw.) So, 20 minutes later, I've called to cancel the roadside assistance guy and I'm on my way.

I, of course, drive safely and stay on the smaller roads so I can drive annoyingly slow without angering too many people. I got passed by a metro bus. How sad is that? Anyway, an hour and some later, I arrive home. Success!! Well, that is, until I get to my front door.

But... I have my keys. And my wallet. And my phone. And everything else I take with me to work everyday. Except I took my housekey off my keyring yesterday when I went running so I would only have to carry that one key with me. The one key that I need. The one key that lets me get inside where the food is. The one key to rule them all!

Sigh...

Call my sister. She'll be home in an hour or so. I have a key to her house, so I go hang out, eat her food, and watch her TV.

10pm and I just got home. You want to know who I blame this all on? TLD.

From an email he sent:

* [Friend1]'s car was broken into some months ago
* [Friend2] is almost totalled in an accident that, thankfully, leaves [Friend3] pretty much unscathed.
* [Friend1]'s car starts having trouble starting, due to a loose battery connection. Specifically, just before and during times when I was riding in the car.
* [Friend4]'s car door breaks, forcing him to gain entry "Dukes of Hazzard" style.
* [Friend4]'s car is stolen, and the entire drivetrain stripped, down to the CV joints.

Oh, but his car? His car is perfectly fine.

TLD: He spreads bad carma.

QOTD: "I saw something that made me think of you yesterday... embryos for sale."

LOTD: Wachovia ties to slavery! *gasp*