Tire Tire, Cars On Fire

, , , | Right | August 14, 2019

(I am second in line at a tire shop. The customer in front of me is trying to buy another set of the exact same tires currently on their vehicle.)

Mechanic: “Those tires will be [price], but we do not have any in stock; we can order them if you want.”

Customer: “I need them today; I am taking my family on vacation tomorrow morning.”

Mechanic: “Our other store in [City 50 miles away] has eight in stock if you need them today.”

Customer: “Good. I want those, then.”

Mechanic: “Do you want me to call them and see if they can fit you in?”

Customer: “I don’t want to drive that far. You go get the tires, bring them back, and put them on.”

Mechanic: “First, we are fully booked for the next two days, and second, we don’t share inventory with our other stores. You have to go there yourself. I can call if you want.”

(The mechanic and customer argue for a while. Then, the customer leaves the line and goes to argue with their family members in the waiting area. I walk up to the service desk, tell them I have an appointment, tell them my name, and give them my keys. The customer sees this and storms up to the counter.)

Customer: “That guy was behind me in line. How come he gets his car worked on?”

Mechanic: “He made an appointment several days ago. Either make an appointment, go to the other store, or leave.”

Customer: “My tires are unsafe. If we all die in an accident, you will be liable and we will sue you.”

Mechanic: “How are you going to sue if you are dead?”

(The customer screams profanities at the mechanic, knocks over a small display of wiper blades, and slams the door on the way out.)

Mechanic: “Can you wait a minute? I need to put a note in the computer that both that customer and the VIN of his vehicle are permanently banned from the store.”

Me: “Fine by me.”

Mechanic: “Your vehicle will be the next into the shop. Have a soda out of the vending machine for being so patient.”

(The mechanic took a dollar bill out of the machine and handed it to me, then cleaned up the display. I kept thinking, “Who waits until the last minute to get new tires and then refuses to drive to the next town over if they are that unsafe?”)

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Hope That Puncture Can Last 220 Miles

, , , , | Right | March 25, 2019

(I work in a tyre shop just off the main shopping street in a small holiday town. The town has a similar name to several other similarly-sized towns in the UK. One Saturday morning I take this phone call:)

Customer: “Hi, I’ve got a puncture; are you close to the high street?”

Me: “Yes, we’re about fifty metres off it. Turn down the side of the old, blue chapel and you’ll see us on your right.”

Customer: “Okay, I’m parked in the high street and I can’t see a chapel. I’m by the white tower.”

Me: *thinking he must mean our lighthouse, which is actually a little way out of town* “Okay, you need to head south, then at the roundabout take the third exit, and then turn right when you’ve passed the supermarket.”

Customer: *angrily* “WHAT? No! I’m in the high street now, I can see the white tower. Where are you?”

Me: “We’re about a mile from the lighthouse tower.”


Me: “Sir, I don’t know any white tower other than the lighthouse.”


Me: “I’ve lived here all my life and there is no white tower on the high street.”

Customer: “There’s a clock at the top of it! I passed a pub called The Star! THE WHITE TOWER!”

Me: *catches on, and hits Google* “Sir, you’ve phoned a company in Burnham on Sea, Somerset; you appear to be in Burnham on Crouch in Essex, 220 miles away…”

Customer: *hangs up*

(Still, he’s not the only one to have made the mistake. Our local paper printed a photo of the post office in the “wrong” Burnham recently!)

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Daddy Issues All Over The Country

, , , , , , | Friendly | March 21, 2019

(My family has a running joke that my dad knows everyone; this fact will be important later. I moved to Alabama from Louisiana about six months before this story. It is an eight-hour drive from one city to the other. My partner and I are three hours into the drive to visit my family when a tire pops on the interstate. Our spare is also ruined, and was supposed to be replaced a month ago at a visit to the tire shop. It takes about three hours to get to the tire shop from the interstate and to get news about the state of our tires. At this point, it’s not looking hopeful. The salesman tells us the tire and spare are both no good, and he has none in the same size. But, LUCKILY, he has a tire that was special ordered to be picked up that day, but the man who ordered it had to reschedule pickup for a few days longer. So, he sells us the tire and reorders for the other customer. We are paying, and the guy asks where we are headed:)

Me: “I’m from [City] in Louisiana, so we’re going to visit my family.”

Salesman: “That’s where I was born and raised. Who’s your kin?”

Me: “[Last Name].”

Salesman: “Oh, I went to high school with a [Dad], [Aunt], and [Cousin].

(My partner starts laughing while I just sigh.)

Me: “My dad is [Dad]. And he does literally know everyone, no matter where I go!”

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Never Get Tired Of Heroes

, , , , | Working | November 22, 2018

(My one-year-old car has been making an odd sound ever since I got it inspected at the dealership. I have taken it back twice, but they tell me it’s fine. I am now at the tire shop, buying snow tires.)

Tire Shop Owner: “Okay, I’ve got those tires you want in stock. With mounting and installation, the total will be [amount].”

Me: “Great. Can we get them on today?”

Tire Shop Owner: “I’m actually pretty slow today. You can have a seat; I’ll pull the car in, get the guys working, and then come out and finish the payment.”

Me: “Thanks.”

(I sit down to wait. I see him pull the car in and put it up on the lift, and he and a worker move towards the tires. The worker stops suddenly and calls over the boss, and they both look at the tire. Then the owner bursts into the waiting room.)

Tire Shop Owner: *yelling* “Who was the last person to take off your tires?!”

Me: “Um, I can’t remember. Oh! I guess they took them off to inspect brakes when I had it inspected.”

Tire Shop Owner: “WHERE?!”

Me: “Uh, the dealership, on [Street].”

(He marches back out to the car, checks the inspection stickers, and storms back into the waiting room. He grabs a sheet of paper off the desk and violently punches numbers into the phone. I can, of course, only hear his side of the conversation.)

Tire Shop Owner: “Yeah, it’s [Tire Shop Owner]. Put [Employee] on NOW!… [Employee]! I have [My Name] here, getting snow tires. She says your guys were the last ones to take off tires. Her car was inspected on [date]… YES! There’s a problem! My guys just took off lug nuts with their fingers!

(At this point he launches into an expletive-filled rant about the dangers, talks about how I should be suing them, threatens to never recommend them again. I actually lose some of the conversation because he’s yelling so loud and there are so many expletives thrown in that I am having a hard time not laughing. He finally hangs up and turns to me.)

Tire Shop Owner: “Ma’am, I am so sorry. You should not have had to listen to that. I’m going to be taking something off your bill today as an apology for my behavior. That just wasn’t right.”

(I’m stunned into silence for a second.)

Me: “You’re apologizing for screaming at the service manager who told me repeatedly that my car was fine when it was actually dangerous? No, you’re not taking something off the bill. I should actually be paying extra for this. He’s been nothing but trouble, but the car is still under warranty and they are the only dealership around.”

Tire Shop Owner: “Well, I don’t think he’ll be a problem anymore. If he is, tell him you’re calling me.”

(We finished the transaction and I took the car home. By the time I got there, I had a message from the dealership owner, apologizing and telling me that I had a credit on my account for a free inspection next year. When I went in the next time, the service manager was afraid to make eye contact.)

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Nailed It

| Related | August 29, 2016

(One of my tires has gotten a nail in it so I take my car to our local tire place, with my father following behind in his car in case something happens. He comes with me into the building, and typically whenever we get a nail or screw in our tire, he calls us nail/screw magnets and believes we should be able to see them on the road while we’re driving. For the record, he’s had his fair share of nails and screws in his own tires.)

Tire Guy: “Hey, guys, what’s up?”

Me: “I’ve got a nail in my back right tire. Just need it taken out and a patch.”

Dad: “Yep, she’s just like her mother. They’re a bunch of nail magnets.”

Me: *having heard this a million times* “Well, you know what, Dad? If people weren’t letting their nails and screws get out on the road, we wouldn’t have this problem, now would we?”

Tire Guy: *snickers* “She has a point.”

(Dad hasn’t made that particular quip since.)

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