Most men like cars, and thus, most men have a car. Many also fancy themselves mechanics: whether or not they are, they’ve made the weekend trips to Canadian Tire, and acquired the tools to do basic auto repairs without causing too much harm.
So: If you’re in a relationship, you likely have access to:
A) another car besides your own,
B) tools, and
C) a person who can provide one, or both, A and B.
I am a newly-minted car-owner, and I’m single. Therefore, I have:
D) none of the above.
Today I picked up a piece of assemble-yourself furniture (more on that tomorrow), and was on my way home, going 60km/hr on a major road, when a lady pulled up beside me, and signalled for me to roll down my passenger window. I did, and she called out that my back right tire was looking very wobbly. ACK!
I pulled into the first tire-repair place I could find, but today’s Sunday, and it was closed. I called their 24-hour emergency number, and after a couple of tries (and 40 minutes), I learned there were no after-hours technicians available in the city. I briefly considered calling AMA (hey, what’s emergency assistance is for, right?), and thought…Sunday… Father’s Day…how long will I be stuck here?
In the end, I called my friend Barry – an auto-body mechanic who helped me choose my first-ever car. Barry is a dad. And I called him on Father’s Day. He happily came, and checked the torque on all my tires.
I have done pretty well at being an independent person: I hold down a job, I pay my own bills, and even before I had my car, I successfully got around on my own most of the time. I haven’t relied on anyone, out of necessity, but the upshot is, I am self-reliant. But while I sat in my car today waiting, I thought of the countless times I’ve heard girlfriends on the phone say: “Honey, can you pick me up?” Today…I felt helpless.
Yes, it is mostly that I really wanted to have a family, and that I feel alone. But I’m realizing recently how many tiny, everyday things are harder because I’m on my own. And I hate it.