Cursed by the tire gods

I am definitely cursed. Today I had to drive out to Wellston to see a new client. Getting to his home required driving 3.5 miles one way down a gravel & dirt road. When heading home, I decided to take historic Route 66 instead of the toll road. I had been on 66 for no more than 1/2 mile when I felt my car doing something weird. I pulled over and sure enough, my left front tired was flatter than flat. I cursed. Cursed some more. Laughed, then called my co-worker to tell her I was stuck in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, a very kind schoolteacher/coach (it's spring break) stopped and cheerfully put my spare on for me. It's nice to know there are good Samaritans out there and he didn't try to stab me even once. I creeped into Edmond and found out that the old tire was not fixable, so I had to buy two new ones. There was a 4 inch nail in that tire--I saved it! The nail, not the tire....
I am ALWAYS getting flat tires and nails and whatever. I don't know how I do it. It's not like I'm going off-roading or something. Of course, the stupid agency I work for won't give us cell phones for when we travel to see clients. Thank goodness I have my own and of course I have to foot the bill but I guess my safety isn't that important to my employer. *

(*that was sarcasm in case you didn't catch it)

So Tire Gods, I am sorry to have offended thee but please, stopeth making my tires go flateth. I shall bring you offerings of burnt cat hair and gum wrappers. Hail Tire Gods.

So be it.