I loved my Swedish ride until she hit 70,000 miles. At that point, the driver’s side window stopped working. The key wouldn’t turn the car off, even when it was removed. The stability control warning was on all the time (sounds scary, but I still don’t know what it means!). Battery? Always dead. Tires? Always flat.
This is when I started relying heavily on the boyf, a mechanical engineer and all-around handyman, to keep my wheels full of air. Even after I got new tires, they’d get low on occasion. We’d pull up to a gas station, he’d get out, do something things, get back in and off we’d go. I’d be, I don’t know, putting on lipstick or something.
It was all fine an dandy until I was alone and I had one stupid flaccid tire. I called my guy. No answer. So then I kicked the tire (cause that’s what they do in the movies) and drove 500 yards to a gas station. Some guy working there pointed out the FREE AIR hose. He lent me a tire pressure gauge, then had to show me how to use it. Then, I placed the hose’s nozzle firmly on the stem. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-done.
No explosion, no blood, sweat or tears. So easy I’m almost embarrassed to say I’d never tried doing it. Thinking I might want to tackle changing a flat next. I just hope it’s on someone else’s car, not mine.