Friday, August 5, 2011

When I'm Right. . .

Last month I was up in the mountains for a weekend that turned into ten days, 'member? Because our car was broken and then it was more broken, and I had a lot of stress eating I needed to do. In fact I moved through all the five K├╝bler-Ross stages of grief: shock, stress eating, cussing, whining, and finally watching "The Wire."

Then some friends from California arrived and everything was groovy, we had our van and were going to redeem the other car after the weekend was over. Then, the afternoon of our last full day up there, I walked out of the store into the parking lot and happened to really look at our front tires. I am not in the habit of looking at my tires, but even I could tell they didn't look good. Maybe I had in mind that Elle had had a tire blowout on the highway not long before, I don't know.

I drove back up to the house and told Matt, "Those front tires on the van are not safe. I don't really want to drive them home to Atlanta tomorrow and I'm sure not driving them to Florida the day after that." Matt was like, "Hmmm, well, they're not going to blow out anytime soon, but you're right, they do need to be replaced, so I'll see what I can do in the morning before we leave." He didn't exactly say, "Okay precious, I don't share your feeling of urgency, but if it will make you feel better," but that was sort of the mood, you know?

So the next morning was tightly scheduled because we had to leave the mountain house in some kind of order, pick up our other car, and make it down to Atlanta in time to pick up Matt's mom from the airport. So we found a tire place on the internet that looked okay (it had seven five-star reviews in Google!) and Matt said he would be there when it opened. Our friend Mike offered to go with him, I think because it sounded like a manly outing and in my experience, guys don't like to hang around the house with the women and children when there's something that involves tools or danger or picking up pizza. So, even though Matt didn't think it was completely necessary, bright and early, they set off for the tire place.

And they got a flat tire before they were off the mountain.

With the two of them, it was no problem to put the spare tire on and roll along to the tire place, where they were taken care of promptly and sent on their way again. And when Matt got home and told me they had a flat, did I say "I told you so?" Reader, I did not. I had no need to. There was no righter I could be and no need to say it myself. I just stood there clad in Righteousness.

Later I asked Matt if he thought the tire place deserved all their five star reviews, and what was so five-star about the place. He said that they had put on four new tires and balanced them in 25 minutes. And he said that they had a relaxed sort of casualness about their operations, that you drove your own car onto the lift, and that they seemed to have no problem if customers wanted to stand around in the garage, or smoke in the garage, or remove their shirts in the garage. You know, friendly-like. In Sylva, NC, that is five-star service.

Reader, have you ever been proven so delightfully right? The moment still savors, you know?

11 comments:

Elle said...

When the angel bestows upon you the Holy Cloak of Righteousness you become one with it and beam. It burns a little, but this is how it is, the life of a saint.

Also, I find that letting the halo speak for me in the moment means that later I can revisit the event from a different angle in situations where we differ & I may only be getting a 3/5 vote. I put it to use in a delightful kind of "But don't you remember how I [made the tire call]!? Come on! I channeled the universe! What, you wanna arm-wrestle?"

Common Household Mom said...

You should bask in this Righteousness for as long as possible. For I predict that there will come a time when you are Right versus a teenager, but lo, your righteousness will be counted against you by that teenager.

And I know I am right about that.

Smoking in the garage? Mm-hmm, very manly.

Elizabeth said...

I like that you were "clad in righteousness." That is a beautiful outfit you have on --

Aimee said...

1. Awesome that he got such great service.

2. Awesomer that you were right.

3. Awesomist that I have a good friend who lives in Sylva!

It's a small world after all...dum de de dum de de doo..,

Amy said...

Elle, you are very funny. It does burn a little! Beck, you wear your victory well--I think it's especially sweet when it concerns car maintenance, a traditionally more dude-related sphere.

Glad y'all weren't on the way to FL when that happened! Does Matt go down the mountain now just to go take his shirt off at the garage? Cause that sounds pretty sweet.

Kelly said...

Love it.

Judy said...

The most beautiful of garments, the One of Righteousness. I'm just glad you didn't have to put it on while driving your sweet children around! Then the Righteous garment gets layered with the Cloak of Bitterness that your warnings were not heeded. I have worn both at the same time....

Star said...

Very funny post, very funny comments. Thanks to all.

Beth said...

I long for the day when I can wield the Sword of Righteousness, because I feel it's more of weapon than a garment. But maybe that's because I've never been so right.

Sparkling said...

There is nothing I love more than being right. But I can't control myself when I am and I do the TOLD YOU SO dance just about every single time. If k-ster would just listen to me, he'd realize I usually dont' say something unless I am sure of it, so I am right a good percentage of the time. Unless he does it on purpose because he thinks some day I will do the TOLD YOU SO dance naked. Like that would ever happen.

Jenni said...

I love it.

Righteousness looks good on ya.