“Ain’t My Emergency”

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Yesterday morning, I headed out into the driveway and happened to glance down to find that the rear driver’s side tire was flat.

Only on the bottom, of course, but a real problem.

Thankfully there is a tire shop literally around the corner so I nursed it over there and put 8 quarters in the machine to put 5 minutes worth of air into the tire.

I’m well aware of the problem as I had previously spotted the screw in the tire that was causing the leak.

I glanced up to see the shop light go on at 7:35. 

Perfect.

I explained my situation to the shop supervisor and he said:

“I have good news and bad news. I have a guy available to do it first thing, but he doesn’t start until 8:00 and sometimes that start time appears to be just a suggestion to him. Sorry.”

I went in the store and grabbed a coffee and did a little paperwork. At 7:50,  a young kid pulled in and parked beside me.

He didn’t get out. Instead, he peered down at his phone. He was playing a game.

The minutes passed slowly.

At 8:00, on the dot, he got out of his car and headed to the shop door. I was all over him.

“Good morning,” I said. “I’m your first customer today. I caught a screw and I need to get to work.”

He laughed and looked at the shop supervisor who nodded.

“Relax, bro,” he said. “Your emergency ain’t my emergency. I go on vacation on Friday and I’m already in leisure mode. Besides, I need to grab a coffee first.”

At eleven minutes after eight he came out and grabbed my keys. He was sipping his coffee.

“We’ll get you on the way soon.”

I couldn’t even answer him. I was at his mercy, I suppose, but I considered my own working career.

Never once have I stayed in my car until my shift were supposed to start.

He was going on vacation besides.

That’s a foreign concept as well.

At 8:30 the car was down off the rack. He headed over and handed me the screw that caused my problem.

“Want to make a necklace out of this?”

I thanked him and told him to have fun on his vacation, and then I headed to the front of the shop and the supervisor. 

I didn’t have to say anything.

“No charge,” he said. “Sorry he didn’t exactly hop to it.”

(This is a shop that I’ve gone to a number of times through the years).

“Nah, it’s all right,” I said. “I’m happy to pay something.”

I handed him a twenty and he said, “Good enough.”

“He does decent work,” the supervisor whispered, “But he’s not exactly a ball of fire. I’ve learned that I can’t say anything. Is what it is.”

I laughed.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “But a wise man told me ‘your emergency ain’t my emergency.’”

He laughed too.

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