So Phyllis had a rough day yesterday.
First, she had to go to Goodyear instead of her birthplace, Southtown Toyota. She tried not to act like a snob while she was in the company of all the gas-guzzling, metal riff raff. But it had to be endured. She had a tire problem and it had to be solved pronto.
Phyl had been telling her pet Karen that there was a problem with the tire, but Karen was so dense that she didn't realize the gravity of the situation. She also tends to get a bit lazy and just kept asking her friend, who she calls Mensa Boy, to put more air in there. Finally Mensa said he'd have to take it somewhere to be looked at.
Well, by then it was Saturday and Goodyear or some other place was going to have to take care of it.
Yeah. They took care of it all right. The tire couldn't be fixed. It had to be replaced. And no, they did not have same brand of tire that Phyllis wears, so they put on another kind.
It feels alright. But Phyllis feels stigmatized by having one mis-matched tired. Deep down in her engine she's concerned that now she may be one step away from becoming riff raff herself.
Then last night there was the hailstorm. Phyllis had taken her pets to Rippington's in Waxhaw. Due to Karen's EXCELLENT parallel parking skills, she was able to sit right outside the front door and keep a headlight on her family while they ate. When the rain began she was good. A nice, massaging hard rain is good for the soul sometimes. And make no mistake: Phyllis HAS soul!
When the hail began Karen went out to check on her and really couldn't do much but offer comfort and encouragement. She found hail the size of marbles and worried a bit, but hoped that Phyllis's fiberglass body would be able to withstand it.
On the way home, in driving rain, Phyllis suddenly came upon a tree that had fallen across the roadway. It was pitch dark and the rain was coming down in sheets. Karen barely saw the tree in time, but she hit Phyl's brakes, which dutifully went into ABS mode, and swerved around the tree. It was like a reenactment of the old tire commercials. Phyllis delivered her pets home safe and sound and rested for the night in her garage.
Phyllis has no discernible damage from the hail. But she's still a little stung by the mis-matched tire.