Susan and I headed to Jerusalem this weekend with a few friends. On the way down, we rounded a corner and, suddenly, there was a clunking noise and smoke and the car was veering back and forth. "To the right, steer to the right". We ended up to the left, in a turning lane because Sherry is just stubborn like that.
Luckily, our friends were pretty manly and were able to take off the tire, which looked like someone had decided to remove just the face of the tire with surgical precision.
Just as they were finishing, a police patrol van pulled up and the Captain offered to escort us to a local tire shop. The police patrol (which turned out to be full of policemen) stayed with us, chatting and supervising as the local tire guy found something to put on the car. They seemed astonished that the boys allowed their "wives" to drive and one of them, quite taken with Susan, invited us to his home for a traditional Jordanian feast.
The whole thing only ended up taking about 30 minutes and $45. A painless end to what could have been really painful.
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