Shell

Always the best price

I’ve braved a humbling yet relatively successful attempt at a traditionally masculine task (at least that’s how I perceived it). A little symbol lit up near the gages one day, and I thought, «Has that always been lit? Is that normal?» Upon checking my car owners’ manual for dunces, it read «low tire pressure» and that I needed 33.5 PSI in my tires. Oh, I asked myself, «Doesn’t that mean someone has to put air in the tire (s)? *urk* What??? Crap! I can’t do that stuff. Daddy and Hubby has never shown me how to do that. Dam. I felt a *little* too helpless. So I braved it and sidled the car next to the air giver thingy. I looked for the instructions, but the nozzle contraption looked like a surgical instrument that I didn’t know how to use. I couldn’t figure out how how much air was in the tire. The only thing I understood was that I had to insert 75-​cents in the contraption, the lever should be depressed to deliver air, the little plastic cap needed to be unscrewed for air to go in, but what do I know about this stuff? HALP!
Defeated, I go into the little food mart with my «helpless female» request. The clerk gave me some brief instructions, and I attempt once more. So I tried, and couldn’t figure the PSI reading. Dam. The clerk waits until his mini mart is clear of patrons to come out. He checked the tire pressure label at my driver’s side door frame, and proceeded to show me how it’s done. Ohhhhhhh I C. Ladies (er, and gents), just have someone show you how it’s done if you don’t know. It’s actually not freakin complicated at all.