Men at Work

A slow puncture in the front passenger. That’s what the guy said anyway when I declared that I had a slow puncture on the front nearside. Of course you know what happens next. I knew it was a screw through the treads as I’d seen it. He brings the tyre - this tyre is shot. Look, he says and pulls the tyre rim exposing wide cracks all round. All four tyres are like this he says. He looks at me balefully. I noticed it had a very low mileage, he says - was it sitting off the road for a long period? Obviously I have no idea. What do you do? Say no, they’re good enough for me? You swallow, lumme, that’s bad news you say, how much would it be to replace all four? He’s knows he’s won and he off in a shot and back with a choice of three different tyres. Hmm, I say, this is like wine in a restaurant. I’m not going to choose the cheapest, but nor am I going to go overboard. This middle one, I say tapping his list. Good choice, Sir!


As I then sat morosely in the waiting room an elderly well spoken lady comes in saying she’d like a new front tyre for her Range Rover (she didn’t actually and credit to them, they pumped up her tyres for free). I was quite gratified to hear her single tyre was more than all four of mine.   

Later, boat check! It’s still there. It’s not full of water. Check over.

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