1. On Saturday, some friends of ours watched our kids for us while we went to see a movie. When we went to pick the kids up, we parked where we always do when we go to our friends' house: the empty area in front of their building's utility meters. We were only inside for a few minutes. When we came outside, one of our front tires was flat.
No big deal. That kind of thing happens. Jeremy immediately started the process of removing the flat tire and putting on the spare. We successfully turned down one very earnest offer of help from a passerby (Jeremy was handling the task just fine, and the passerby was obviously trying to get somewhere), but when a neighbor of our friends came out, he would not take no for an answer. He insisted on helping, busted out an air pump that he connected to our car battery, and successfully re-inflated the tire in a jiffy.
We thanked him, and then mentioned that we were still going to go to a garage to have the tire checked for a puncture. But he kept saying that wasn't necessary - he was so sure that there wasn't a puncture. It was strange. Finally, it came out that the reason he knew there was no puncture was because he was the one who had let the air out of the tire. What the?!? I guess a neighbor across the way has a car like ours and parks in the spot we were in, and does so in a way that bothers this particular guy. Apparently there are three imaginary parking spots in the unmarked area in front of the meter, and for about 10 minutes, we were rudely parking across two of those three spots. So, you know, he did what any self-respecting neighbor would do in that situation: he let the air out of our tire. In his defense (?), he thought we were the annoying neighbor who was always doing that, not just one-time offenders.
Whatever. At least he helped us re-inflate it.
2. We went straight from there to a repair garage in Sharjah to have our brake pads replaced. When we got to the garage, the dudes there had the girls and me stay in the car, with the engine running (it's hot enough to need AC these days). To them, it seemed to be the better alternative to having a woman and two little kids running around their repair garage. To me, it was a very strange experience. They even kept us in there while they lifted the car up on one of those elevator things to check the alignment. And then they re-aligned the car with the engine running.
It was certainly very convenient! And Jeremy got to sit outside and shoot the breeze with various people, including an imam who tried to convert him to Islam.
And I hope I don't have anything re: our car to blog about for a long time hence.
No big deal. That kind of thing happens. Jeremy immediately started the process of removing the flat tire and putting on the spare. We successfully turned down one very earnest offer of help from a passerby (Jeremy was handling the task just fine, and the passerby was obviously trying to get somewhere), but when a neighbor of our friends came out, he would not take no for an answer. He insisted on helping, busted out an air pump that he connected to our car battery, and successfully re-inflated the tire in a jiffy.
We thanked him, and then mentioned that we were still going to go to a garage to have the tire checked for a puncture. But he kept saying that wasn't necessary - he was so sure that there wasn't a puncture. It was strange. Finally, it came out that the reason he knew there was no puncture was because he was the one who had let the air out of the tire. What the?!? I guess a neighbor across the way has a car like ours and parks in the spot we were in, and does so in a way that bothers this particular guy. Apparently there are three imaginary parking spots in the unmarked area in front of the meter, and for about 10 minutes, we were rudely parking across two of those three spots. So, you know, he did what any self-respecting neighbor would do in that situation: he let the air out of our tire. In his defense (?), he thought we were the annoying neighbor who was always doing that, not just one-time offenders.
Whatever. At least he helped us re-inflate it.
2. We went straight from there to a repair garage in Sharjah to have our brake pads replaced. When we got to the garage, the dudes there had the girls and me stay in the car, with the engine running (it's hot enough to need AC these days). To them, it seemed to be the better alternative to having a woman and two little kids running around their repair garage. To me, it was a very strange experience. They even kept us in there while they lifted the car up on one of those elevator things to check the alignment. And then they re-aligned the car with the engine running.
And I hope I don't have anything re: our car to blog about for a long time hence.