Earlier in the day, LJ came home from running errands and told me that my car had a flat tire. I asked which one, as I was outside last night with the dog and didn't notice anything looking out of place. She said it was a rear tire. I made every effort to put the air back into the deflated tire in hopes of getting it filled to drive it to Discount Tire for the repair, but no luck. It wouldn't take any air. I decided it was a bad valve stem of at least the seal had been broken from sitting too long in the sun. I jacked up the car and removed the tire and borrow LJ's truck to haul it to get it repaired. I dropped it off and left my phone number to call when it was ready and I continued to the lab.
While getting my 14 viles of blood removed from my arm, my phone rang, but I didn't recognize the number so didn't answer at such an inopportune time. I called my voicemail to see what the message was and it said to call Discount Tire, there is a problem and they want to know what to do to proceed. Hmmm.......
When I called, I got someone named John to tell me that my tire had been stabbed and it needed to be replaced, not repaired. Shit, I HATE when that happens! These are expensive tires too and I have to replace it with the same type, obviously. I told him to go ahead and do the best he can at matching the others and hung up. When I got there, the tired was ready for me and the bill was not as much as I'd expected. I took the tire home and installed it onto the car and went into the house for a cold drink.
Still not believing that someone would do something like that in this neighborhood, which is a clean suburban atmosphere, on the golf course no less. As I sat back, LJ came in to ask if I was all finished and I told her yes, and that if I had a knife and wanted to do some vandalism, I would slash the top on a convertible, not stab the tire. As I said that, a light bulb actually lit over my head and I thought, "I wonder" and headed back out.
The top is black and difficult to see any variance in shape indicating a cut, but sure as hell, there were 4 stabs, about 2 inches long each along the driver's side from front to back. That took my loss from a little over a hundred to well over a thousand. Woe is me! Ain't the Fourth of July grand?