Okay, so she’d never learned to change a tire. But she could work a can of Fix-a-flat and an air compressor and, failing that, she had AAA on speed dial. She could handle a flat and still be back at work before her afternoon shift began. No doubt about that—at least not in her mind.

So why did every guy in the parking lot come running to her aide?

Not that she wasn’t grateful, even to the one who ignored her assurances that she was on top of it and practically shoved her aside to “help.” It was kind of them, if a bit piggish, being willing put themselves out for her; they probably had jobs to get back to, same as she did. She appreciated that.

Still.

She wasn’t a bombshell. She was more than a few pounds overweight and pushing middle age. So, what? Did she project incompetence or, even worse, helplessness? What did these guys want?

Her “hero” didn’t even wait around to be thanked. Chauvinism and chivalry were hard to tell apart sometimes.

She drove back to work on full tires and altering perceptions.