Doors are weapons. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise. On Monday night my poor right index and middle fingers fell victim to a heavy door being swung open as they reached to grab the handle on the otherwise. The collision let my poor digits bruised, battered, and the size of a 300 lb. man's.
I arrived home that evening to find the sweet fella waiting to tend to my injury with Rice Krispy Treats and Diet Dr. Pepper (he knows the way to my heart, I tell ya). When I stepped out of my car to give him a hug we both heard a steady and distinct hissing sound coming from behind me. Sure enough my car's front tire was slowly pancaking.
Never fear, of course, for the strapping lad expertly and deftly switched out that flat for a shiny, new one - not a new flat... a brand new tire. Quite an eventful night to be sure, but it's never ever dull around these parts.