About 10:15 this morning, I drove into the parking lot of my favorite mechanic, opened the back of my van and one of the guys immediately came out of the shop, got my tire out of the back and asked me if I wanted to wait for it or come back. I said I could come back around 2:00 p.m. And no, I hadn’t called ahead.
I came back at 2:05 p.m., and as I got out of the van, the same guy came out of the shop to get my keys. He put my tire back on my van and 15 minutes later I was driving to school to pick up PinkGirl.
Because I’ve been going to this family owned shop since 1996, they know me by name. No paperwork for me to fill-out when I dropped off the tire. Since I bought the tires from them and I have road hazard protection, no invoice to pay when I picked it up.
Sweet.
oh. and THEY couldn’t figure out where the spare was supposed to be stored either. That’s because it’s such a stupid location for a spare. Right now, it’s in the back of the van. FirstHusband? FavoriteSon? Thank you for putting my spare back for me. 🙂