Sisters

'Sisters are Doin' it for Themselves' was supposed to be the theme of the day.
This is how a friend and I refer to times when we do 'male' jobs at our workplace. Now I get into the hairy area of trying to explain what we mean. These have usually been jobs that were more technical, that were usually left to the people with more expertise in these areas--cameras, computer problems etc--who happened to all be male. Being next in the chain of command at our workplace, we would sometimes end up having to learn these new skills out of necessity.
However frustrating and nonsensical the task, we were proud when we finally accomplished them. High Five! Sisters etc etc.
This philosophy spilled over into my private life (I've always been a bit D.I.Y anyway) and I started taking on small tasks at home. Usually with positive results.
So this weekend the sisters took their good work outside of the workplace.
Mission: Replace two bicycle tires.
Plan: Head to MEC. Purchase supplies. Stop for vegan sandwich. Replace tires. Continue with Saturday plans.
Minus the bathhouse, this is what I looked like by the end of the day.


We were in the entranceway of my building for a good 2-3 hours, fighting to stretch the tire over the rim of my bicycle. After the first painful hour I suggested we go upstairs and ask Dear Google what we were doing wrong.

With some 'helpful tips' in mind, we returned to try again, confident that we could do it. We still could not. I had started to lose feeling in my fingertips.
Enter the neighbors.
Two older gentlemen, very kind and quirky, trying at different times to help us. One of them stayed for at least an hour, using his man-arms (after awhile, we started to think that we couldn't get it because we didn't have enough upper-body strength) to no avail.
Enter the quitters.
By this time it was after 5 pm. We were tired, hot and our whole day had been derailed. We headed to La Carrera to ask for help.
The owner was nice, but laughed at us. Asked us what tools we were using, and joked that he imagined us using spoons. I didn't have the energy to get angry.
He seemed basically kind, and you don't fuck with the keeper of information when you need their help.
We were trying to put the wrong size tire onto the rim.
"You have a CCM tire, not a road or mountain tire. You need to look at the measurement written on the tire in millimetres, not the inch measurement."
That was it. I don't know how I could have known that it would have been that complicated.
I felt defeated. This should have been an easy task. I felt that the bike world was laughing at me...that this task was made purposely complicated over the years to discourage people from attempting home repair and create a broader line of products in order to take my money.
75 dollars later my bike is wheeled once more.
Several days later, I feel slightly less discouraged. And I carry on.