So I went into the service station, with every intent of learning to fill my own tires with air. I mean, this is a survival skill! I should know this stuff!
However, the nice mechanic saw me wandering around aimlessly, looking for the air hose, and said “Do you need help?” and when I confessed that I hadn’t ever done this before, he told me to pull around, and was refilling it before I got out of the car. I couldn’t exactly kick him away from the tire, so I settled for thanking him profusely, particularly since I know full well it would have taken me twenty minutes to figure out how to read the tire gauge, by which point the tire would have exploded.
My grandmother, who never changed a tire in her entire life,* would have been proud. Ah, well. I suppose it doesn’t matter whether your skill points are in Craft (Automotive) or Diplomacy, so long as the car gets fixed…
In happier news I’m going to go see a performance of the Whirling Dervishes of Rumi tomorrow. I’m kinda stoked! Spinning! Mysticism! More spinning!
*but did leave a trail of broken-hearted mechanics across the highways of America