So okay, the Spokane Story

1/25/09. So before we leave for Spokane to go see my in-laws I check my tires. I know my tires are bad. But they still got tread. And we're broke. Tax Return's in the mail. Let's just do it. 

We get there fine. Comin' back though past Tri-Cities my wife's drivin' and she's swervin' like crazy. Uh-oh. But maybe she's just a bad driver. (Which she is.) But goddamnit I can't keep the car on the road either! And I hear on the radio it's 18 degrees. 18! So I'm drivin' about 35 miles per hour just to keep from sliding into the Columbia. Finally, thank god there's an accident ahead. I pull over and put on the chains. I get out and fall on my ass. The freeway is an inch thick of ice. 

As I'm puttin' on the chains though, my hands start bleeding. They're getting cut by something. Oh yeah. The steel belts are coming through the tires. Wow. So I guess they were balder than I thought. Whatever you do Claus, that's right, do not tell the wife: First thing through my head.

So I figure we'll get to The Dallas, stay the night, in the morning it's Les Schwab on the VISA and some free beef. Right? Well, son of bitch, it clears up and it's dry right at the exit. My wife's already pissed at me now, she knows the tires are bad (not how bad), Ike's watchin' a DVD, screw it Forge ON! Going 30 miles per hour it takes us 11 hours total to get home from Spokane, my wife didn't speak to me the whole way. But I saved us money! We just got our tax return and I didn't have to pay interest on no stoopid tires. Huh? I wish I could tell my penny pinchin' Irish mom about this one. But she'd kill me.