My friend came out of class around 7:00 pm at the Academy of Art to find the tire on her Jeep flat. She got out her jack and raised it to its max only to find that the max was not high enough. After 40 minutes on hold with her insurance roadside assistance, she had still not talked to anyone who could help so she drove on her flat to the nearest Chevron. I got word she was down there and decided I would be a man and go help. I literally ran through the Tenderloin to get to her and her Jeep at the Chevron in Mid Market. I actually stopped and walked the last half block so I could catch my breath and look like I had not run. I was there only a few minutes before the professional tire changer arrived in his semi-sized tow truck. We looked on as he walked back and forth between his
rig and her Jeep. He did not seem to know what he was doing at all. Twenty minutes passed and he had still not touched the flat tire. He had backed up his truck and pulled it forward and backed it up again. Then he rigged up the jeep to be towed. We really thought he was just going to tow her Jeep away. Then he raised up the front of her jeep as high as he could with the hydrolic lift. He piled up a bunch of wooden blocks under the back axel and then lowered the Jeep on them. The blocks creaked and shifted and barely raised the Jeep up at all. Definitely not high enough to remove the tire. He tried this over and over and over before finally admitting (after some strong prodding in Spanish) that his jack had been stolen and he was just trying to come up with an alternative. We admired his creativity, but at this point it was 10:00 pm and the homeless people were swarming us. The tire man called in his friends. 2 more professional tire changers came in another giant semi-sized tow truck. They had a floor jack. I thought we would be on the road in no time. 1 hour later, after all 3 of them working together to figure out the jack and piling up more wood on top of the jack to get it high enough, the tire was changed. But by this time, one of the homeless people had become very concerned for us and started screaming expletives in Spanish at the poor guys trying to change the tire. I should have just given him the dollar for beer that he asked for up front. Instead I engaged him in a big discussion about how I had more debt than he could ever hope to have and how my friends insurance was paying for the whole thing so he did not need to worry. I sounded like such a freaking lawyer. We got on the road about 11:30 and I got dropped off back at my tower in the loin. Outside I can hear fighting and glass breaking. I am not sure if its bottles or car windows and honestly I don't care. Just dont ever get a flat tire in San Francisco, unless you happen to have 2 semis, 3 professional tire changers, a homeless man to curse at the workers, and a friend to keep you company.
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