Tired Mish-Mash

A Tired Mish-mash is what you get when you spend half an hour in a tire store with nothing but a pen and legal pad.

I got tired at Mylittleburg Tire Emporium. Well to be precise, my son’s Jeep Cherokee got tired there. All four of them. And I have the credit card bill to prove it. Ouch. Until I realize, I got four rubber tires that I expect to make millions of revolutions over anything and everything that happens to be on the road. Rain, snow, ice, dead animals, car parts, canyons and occasionally, dry pavement. Hmm…maybe not such a bad deal.

Eight tire shop firsts:

• Mario Andretti’s autograph on the wall. In Sharpie. What’ll they do when they need to repaint?
  
• Cappuccino machine. Okay, fake powdery concoction, but hey, it’s sweet.
  
• Brightly colored, shiny clean waiting area. Comfortable chairs.
  
• Big screen plasma TV. With Headline News. No sports, no fishing.
  
• Popcorn machine. The cool carnival kind.
  
• Electric fireplace. On a chilly morning, anything that looks warm is inviting.
  
• Toy table for kids. Guess climbing on the stacks of tires was not an option.
  
• House Beautiful magazine. Or something like that. A whole magazine stand just for the chicks. Sorry, I mean for the lady customers.

Random Santa story from a previous visit:

I’m buying tires the week before Christmas, and the salesman has a genuine Santa beard and Santa smile, wearing a Santa hat. So I have to ask, "Wouldn’t Santa be giving away tires?"

"Oh yes," he assured me. "On Christmas Day he would. Course we’re closed on Christmas." Dang.

Oh well, you know what they say - What goes around will eventually go bald or flat. Isn’t that what they say?

Told you it’s a mish-mash.