Read anything older than this post at the risk of wasting your time and judging five-years-ago me

You've been warned.

Sometimes the line between sexism and chivalry is blurry

I had a flat tire by the time I got home from the YMCA yesterday, and this afternoon I was out loosening the lugnuts when a cop drove by. The boyfriend was keeping company and saw the cop before I did, and mentioned that he thought the cop was going to stop but didn't. And then a minute later as I was lining up the jack to the ridge under the car, the cop circled back around. "Do you guys need some help?" he asked. He had his seatbelt off and was getting ready to get out of the car before I could even answer.

"I think we've got it under control," boyfriend responded.

"Oh, okay," the cop said, a little surprised. "Just wanted to see if you needed help."

"It's okay," I said. "My dad taught me how to do this."

And then the cop laughed a little and said, "Okay then. When I drove by I was wondering what a lady was doing down there with a tire iron! Have a good day then."

"She actually taught me how to do this," boyfriend added.

The cop smiled and drove away, and boyfriend said, "Well that's a little sexist."

"Yeah it's sexist," I said. "It's sexist because the assumption is that you should have been doing it for me, and it's sexist to assume that I wouldn't know how to do it myself!"

Regardless, I still completely appreciate the offer, even if his southern manners came off as a little sexist. If I was a helpless flake of a woman, I might even have taken him up on the offer. And to give him credit, the boyfriend helped with the heavy lifting. That's the worst part about changing a tire: having to heft the dirty flat tire back into the car for repair.

Next adventure: seeing if the warranty I have for the tires will cover this replacement. I'm pretty sure this sucker is beyond repair. Come oooooooon, Tire Barn. Treat me right!