sabotage?

Yesterday night I pulled out of my driveway only to discover (a little late, since my music was pretty loud) that I had a completely busted back tire. (But let's be honest, if it hadn't been for those sorority girls who kept honking at me until I finally rolled down my window in exasperation I probably would have driven on it for days.) I haven't had a flat tire since I was maybe 16 but I did know that I was not going to unload the 75 pounds of books that are still in my trunk from when I drove my sorry self out West from DC nearly six months ago. Unfortunately my spare tire is underneath said 75 pounds. That is when I phoned in reinforcements. I was picked up, given homemade pie, and allowed to play Atari (fitting, as I seemed to have reverted to being a five-year-old girl incapable of changing my own tire). And at the end of the pie and Atari, and even though it was negative degrees and my toes were going hypothermic in my very impractical flats and it was nearing 2 a.m. and everywhere there was snow, ice, and darkness, a buddy drove me home wearing his headlamp with the camo band, took his own Honda spare donut out of his trunk, jacked up my car, and changed my tire with his bare hands. And this, folks, is why I love Iowa.

But the question remains: Did Jiffy Lube Man intentionally sabotage me so I would return? The answer to follow after our rendezvous this morning!

PS: What evening with students is complete without a YouTube treasure? Witness:

Disturbing? Or the Most Amazing Thing You Have Ever Seen?