If you read this earlier post, you will know that Hubby went racing off to the garage for a tyre repair.
I had rung ahead and he made good time, so much so that he was seen more or less immediately by the guy who had answered the phone. He explained that it could mean a new tyre but Hubby said it didn’t matter as we needed the car for our trip tomorrow.
Light bulb moment as the guy remembered him from last time.
Now here’s the rub:
While his tyre was being examined, a guy drove onto the forecourt and demanded to be seen as he’d hit a pot hole. Lincolnshire roads are notorious for pot holes, but when you are familiar with specific routes getting from A to B, you can anticipate them, slow down, or even stop if someone is coming the other way and you can’t avoid it.
The fitter apologised saying they were really busy and he couldn’t fit him in, asking how far he had to go. It turned out he lived less than a mile away, AND he had a spare wheel.
A few minutes later a woman pulled up and said she had a ‘bit of wear’ on her tyre. Again the fitter was apologetic as they were fully booked but he’d be happy to make her an appointment for tomorrow morning. She drove off without making one.
I was so glad I’d rung first!
Meanwhile, the fitter said the nail hadn’t gone through so no repair was needed. As a precaution though, he put it through all the bubble tests to make sure there were no leaks, then happily put the wheel back on the car.
Even better, there was no charge.
Now we are always grateful to anyone who helps us out, so Hubby fished out some cash from his wallet and told him to buy himself a drink. The lad said he didn’t drink, but it would definitely buy a few cups of coffee, and he’d probably buy some biscuits for the lads on their tea breaks.