Tires

I just ordered a Big Mac at Wendy's, or the automotive equivalent.

Walking into a Firestone Tire shop, I asked them to price a set of Michelin tires for my SUV. My service representative didn't quite know what to say. She had a slightly panicked look on her face as she searched for just the right words to tell me I was an idiot without sounding like she was telling me I was an idiot.

After a pause, she told me, with just a hint of condescension (as opposed to condensation, which is what my wet noodle mind wanted me to write), that they didn't sell Michelin tires (as opposed to Michigan tires, which is what my spellchecker wanted me to write). She went on to explain that they were a corporately owned Firestone store (that is probably why they had "Firestone" in big red letters on the side of their building) and that they only sold Firestone and Bridgestone products.

Of course, I immediately jumped on the fact that they did, after all and contrary to what she had told me, sell tires other than Firestone. This was an obvious justification of my multi-brand confusion and went a long way towards countering my seeming stupidity.

She was kind enough to ask if I wanted to spend as much as Michelin tires would cost or whether I would be okay with a better value. As much as I wanted to maintain my seeming composure and my confident air by telling her I just wanted to spend a lot of money to ensure I got a good tire, my frugality and slowly improving sense took over and I told her a good tire at a great price would be fine. I think I actually said, “Okay,” in a slightly disappointed and whiny tone.

After she recovered from her disappointment of not winning salesperson of the year by way of a single customer, she gave me some options, including a free alignment check. Knowing that a free alignment check would lead to a not so free alignment, I adroitly told her, “Yes,” and, just to be sure I had the greatest opportunity to spend the most money, I added that I probably needed one. I couldn't resist displaying my tire knowledge by adding, “My wear pattern looks like I need one." Of course, my free check proved me right. Again.

Later, after I had authorized the totally unexpected alignment, my assigned auto technician formerly known as mechanic stopped by to visit and let me know I was a quart low and that he had a flask with some fine Kentucky bourbon…no, he said my SUV was a quart low, and asked me if I wanted him to add some oil. But I saw through his game and threw him off by saying, "Why don't you just change the oil, too." He played it cool, as if he really didn’t want me to spend the extra money or he didn’t have the time, but I convinced him otherwise.

After spending most of the day at the tire store, I snuck out with new tires, a hazard warranty, an alignment and an oil change, but I held strong and didn’t buy the gold plated wheel spinners. They clashed with my new chrome mud flaps.