the end of a perfect morning

Finally getting out of the hospital at 10:20, I decided to go home via Tesco's to do some very overdue shopping for home. (Series of flood related events resulted in me driving to work for the first time). As I was driving out of the car park onto Cowley Rd, a passerby pointed out to me that my rear tyre was 'rather flat'.

Hopping out I see a cartoon-style deflation, with the rim of the wheel almost on the ground. I proceeded to sit back in the car, turn on the hazard lights and try to work out what to do. My (by this stage *very* tired) brain was drawing an utter blank. Get towed? Abandon the car (and a large amount ot shopping) to buy a new wheel? I pulled out the phone to call the brains trust, when the guy behind me started honking and swearing at me. I gestured at him to drive around, so he pulled up next to me and started yelling abuse at me. I exploded 'I have a flat tyre! My hazard lights are on! What do you want me to do? He looked at the cartoon tyre, grunted 'I see' and drove off. Then someone else behind me started tooting and we had the whole thing over again.

By this stage I was in tears, the phone had connected to exactlyhalf, and I was flailing verbally at him. Then 3 very friendly workmen strolled up. 'Don't cry love', says one, 'it's only the bottom half that's flat'. Then they opened my boot, found my jack and spare tyre ('oh', said my brain 'that's right, cars have spare tyres *in* them') and proceeded to change the tyre for me.

I'm very, very grateful to these white knights (two guys from Bristol and and Irishman), and am resolved never to shop after night shift again, even if we're down to tea and toast at home.