When I drove into the gas station, I passed a young man in a black classic Mustang or Charger. The windows were tinted dark, but one was open a little and I could see his braids under his black cap.
I put my money in the air machine and began pumping air into my tire. I know how to do this because my Dad taught me years ago. Today, however, I was in a hurry and carelessly did not use my tire air gauge.
After about 30 seconds, the driver in the classic car pulled up alongside me as I knelt at my tire. I heard the music playing in his car. I then noticed his low tire. His car had nice rims. I decided to make conversation, even though I could not tell from his appearance if he was friendly.
"Where does the air go? I just put air in this tire last week! I must have a slow leak."
"The bumps in the road. That's why I don't drive this car that much."
"It sure is a nice car." I continued pumping air.
"Uh, do you need help with that? There is a gauge on the hose. What pressure do you keep your tires?"
"I try for 35 pounds." I tried to sound like a pro.
"Let me check for you." I gave him the hose. "Wow, it's at 50! That is too much. This tire could blow up if you hit a bump! Right here, it could blow up in your face with this much pressure! I will take it down to 40 for you."
He did what he said. I thanked him. I scolded myself for being careless. He said, "God bless," as I got in my car to drive away. I said, "God bless you, too."
That young man in the dark sweats, dark cap, and with the braided hair was a blessing to me today.
Take care,
Sylvia
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