…never buy a used car without checking to make sure it has a tire iron. Otherwise you end up on the side of the road in Queens waiting for the AAA guy to show up.
You have no idea how big a chump you feel like when you’re sitting there, perfectly capable of changing your own damn tire, but completely unable to do so. Not because you don’t have a jack, or even a spare; no, you simply trusted in the beneficence of your uncle to not sell you a car lacking an integral piece of hardware.
Me and Uncle John are going to have words tomorrow.