Jose Pimps My Tires

I know a thing or two about hubcaps. I recently had my front right hubcap spontaneously fall off my tire and roll though a busy intersection for the second time this year. It may have been because I was recklessly driving over a corner curb while trying to memorize the address to a garage sale. But I can’t say for sure. This is the story of how my car was reborn.

The thing I’ve learned is that hubcaps are expensive to replace, and even for my modest ’99 Toyota Camry a new one would cost $40. Not to mention I’d have to drive to Van Nuys, which houses the only hubcap store in LA County. They would be able to fit me with an exact match so I could stop feeling so ghetto.

Which brings me to last Saturday. I had an iced latte, a debit card, and enough gas to get me to the Valley. While at a stoplight near my house I spied an Auto Zone and thought, what the heck? May as well check and see if, by some chance, they could dress my naked little tire.

I walked through the doors and wandered aimlessly for a bit, as girls do in auto stores, until I was approached by a sales clerk. Why yes, I did need help, thank you! He went outside to measure my rims and then ushered me to their small selection of hubcaps, four to a box, $24.99. The price was right! He picked out a set and went outside to put them on my car.

You don’t meet salespeople like this too often. I asked him his name. Jose. I was thankful he didn’t offer to shake my hand because his had greasy black shit all over it. He told me I should sell my remaining three hubcaps on Ebay and make a buck. Now I was in love with the guy. I never would have thought of that! Jose could have taken the old hubcaps and sold them himself and I would have been none the wiser, but he was looking out for me. Or did I just look that poor?

I wished right then I were the President of my own company, so I could chomp on my cigar and tell him, “Jose, I could use a guy like you.” I would start him at the bottom, of course, but eventually he would be my right hand and I would bestow the company upon his sons. My own sonofabitch kids never wanted anything to do with me or my company. But I don’t have a company, and when I look at the industrious Jose all I can do is hear the words of David Brent in my ears. “Waste. Of. Talent.”

I paid and left the Auto Zone, and as I went back to my car I could not help but notice how refreshed my car looked. Easily, five years younger. More confident and sassy. If it could talk, I’m sure it would have asked me for Botox and a new paint job. You know how it is… you get the lipo, and then you can’t stop. But those new hubcaps were singing.

I got back on the road, pondering what to do now that I had some extra time on my hands. I started looking at other cars and their hubcaps. Mine looked better than all of them. Even the luxury cars! Which was… strange. All their hubcaps were dull-looking, like my Toyota-issued ones. My new hubcaps were like shiny nickels. Almost too shiny for my weathered, gray Camry. I pulled over and looked at the box the hubcaps had come in. Oh my goodness.

Jose had sold me chrome hubcaps. Like the ones in rap videos. I was surely drawing unnecessary attention to myself. I got out and looked at my car. Ridiculous! All I needed was a spoiler and some tinted windows to complete the joke! And yet… she still looked sassy. And proud. And who was I to take away the one upgrade I could afford for her, after all the places she’s taken me? Hell, she just turned 100,000 without a single complaint.

Jose knew what he was doing all along. Goddammit, somebody give that man a raise! The gangsta hubcaps are here to stay, friends. Wave if you see me. I’ll slow down and let you touch up your lipstick in the reflection.

Today's Coffee Beverage: NF Moroccan Mint latte from Coffee Bean