The male species is rendered completely useless unless they want to be in your pants, have been in your pants, or are currently in your pants. I had a flat tire today.

I remove all of my tools, and decide to do this dreaded deed myself. And though I am certain I could perform this task on a deserted residential street, there were several issues that made the task quite a bit more complicated:
- I left the significant somethings abode this morning, still sporting my pajamas.
- I was on an interstate that has no shoulder.
- I pulled off of the road into the DIRT (Where a large snake skin and a bird carcas was located)
- I have never actually done this for myself.

But damnit, I was determined. So I remove the jack and other tools of doom and begin to try to change the tire. Lo and behold, the lug nuts are not going to move. I drive a Japanese car, so I think to myself, 'self, maybe the Japanese don't employ the righty tighty lefty loosy rule... Why don't you call and get confirmation on the way we should be turning this dohickey.' So I call my brother, who chooses to fire an arsenal of insults, and hangs up without answering my question. Fuck. Next person on the call list: My most mechanically enclined gay friend: Scotty. Scotty is a 8 to 5 er, and he does not answer his phone. Double Fuck. Who to call now? My best straight male friend, D.Wayne. Now, for those of you who know, D.Wayne is brother of DAP. DAP and I have quite the story that D.Wayne does NOT know about... But DAP lives remarkably close to the site in which I was located. But damnit I had no choice. So I call D.Wayne, and he tells me not to move. I protest the event that is about to take place, but to no avail.

I knew what was about to happen, and there was NOTHING I could do about it.

There I am, in all of my diva glory, standing on the side of a highway, in my pajamas, wearing no makeup, wearing flipflops, hair in a very JBF style. I was a picture of beauty. I was a picture of high society.

DAP pulls up and gets out of his vehicle. What does he say? Not Hi. Not good to see you. He says 'So I take it you are still dating Mr. Dallas?' I look. I smile the really fake smile. I say 'good to see you too.'

DAP changes the tire, all the while making very uncomfortable small talk, regarding my attire, regarding my lovelife, regarding several hot button items that were completely inappropriate. As if this activity was not fun enough. I answer his questions, and with every answer I give, the air gets thicker, and thicker, and thicker.... I swear, by the end of it, I was trying to breathe jello.

...The only redeeming thing about this event was that it only lasted fifteen minutes.

Note to self (and anyone reading this): Always put real clothes on before beginning your journeys.  ¶ 11:36 PM