Sometime in my early career I was forced to buy new tires for my car. As I could barely afford gas in those days, this purchase was beyond my immediate means, so I financed it from the local Sam’s Club (via my employer’s private label card program)…responsibly. I paid them off before the interest accrued. Still, it sucked.
Then, a month later on my way home from what was of course second shift, in the dark and rain I failed to notice a road obstacle. A chunk of concrete was laying in wait to ambush me, because life kicks you when you’re down. The rock immediately blew both left tires and bent the rims. I had to have the car towed. I left it in the local Sam’s Club parking lot for the night.
Sam’s Club did not have replacement rims for my car, so I had to call around. Eventually, I located two repair shops who each had a singular rim in stock. Borrowing Liz’s car the next morning, and taking a personal day off work, I drove around the city and procured them. I then took them to Sam’s and threw them in my car, proceeded to walk into the service garage, and ask if they had any problem with installing new tires on the rims not already on the vehicle. Fortunately, they did not. Also fortunately, they honored their own warranty on road hazard damage to the new tires and replaced them free of charge. Unfortunately, however, they didn’t have the same Michelin tires in stock and I ended up with Bridgestone. The Michelin were radials. The Bridgestone were not. This led to years of incompetent auto shops rotating tires incorrectly and leaving one of each type on the same axle. I eventually stopped having my tires rotated altogether.
But back to the rock. As I was waiting for the tow truck, I walked back and searched successfully for what I had hit. As an anti-trophy, I threw it in my trunk. It would eventually make its way to my desk at work as a persistent reminder that life will grant no favors even when trying to do everything right. I was severely underemployed at that time. Like the rock, The Great Recession took its toll mercilessly.
At one point, I wrote “Without Sin” on it with a sharpie, as a veiled threat that I might throw it at someone. But, despite the constant temptation, I never did, and it followed me from desk to desk as I gradually advanced my career.
Then COVID lockdowns happened. Given limited notice to clear out our desks for full-time work at home, I haphazardly threw the contents of my cubicle into boxes. That which I needed for my job was retrieved from the boxes, while the remaining contents sat forgotten. Now, 6 years later, I decided the boxes were taking up too much space and proceeded to clear them out. A full audit revealed the rock, which now, once again, sits upon my desk.
Is its resurgence an omen, or just chance? We shall see. For now, I find it reassuring that the struggling days of my early adulthood are over. My fingers are becoming arthritic and I have this new sciatica problem, but at least I can afford tires.
–Simon
