The tyres on my car were getting towards the dodgy end of the spectrum. There are two obvious tyre retailers in Pinoso - places with pictures of tyres on their signs. I asked them, in person, for prices. I got quotes for tyres made by Aplus, Kummo, Minerva, Roadstone, Firestone and Hankook. I was born in a simpler world. A world where Cadbury was British, not American and Volvo was Swedish, not Chinese. When a Mini had a BMC engine and not a Peugeot one. When tyres were made by Pirelli, Goodyear, Dunlop and Michelin. I'd never heard of most of the brands. The only decision I could make about quality was price. If Firestone cost more than Insa I supposed they were better but then again we all know that sometimes we're paying for a name. The Internet reviews were useless. The tyres were still legal. I decided the choice could wait.
At a routine, prepaid, service on the car SEAT disagreed with me. They said the tyres didn't have enough tread left. They gave me a price to replace the original Hankooks similar to the ones the car came with. Hankook, as a name, always brings to mind the Blood Donor sketch and a sad man. I started to ring around. I got all sorts of prices. Comparing them proved tricky because even if the brand were the same the specifications might vary slightly. How do I know if a 205/55 R17 95V is worth 20€ more than a 205/55 R17 91V? Eventually I gave up ringing around and just searched online. I got even more confused.
Better to support local businesses I thought even though, surprisingly, the quote from the SEAT main dealer was competitive. I messaged the Pinoso workshop and said I'd like to buy a couple of tyres from them. The messaging came about because their prices had been sent by WhatsApp. They couldn't do it, they were closed for a week; holidays. I phoned the main dealer. They couldn't give me an appointment to change tyres (which takes what, thirty minutes?) for over two weeks which would be after the Pinoso people were back from holiday.
The day the Pinoso workshop was open I confirmed the order for a couple of tyres. They suggested I go the next day to have them fitted. I did. The bloke in the overalls, who I could barely understand, knew nothing about me or the car or the tyres. I showed him the messages from his wife because it's her who does the office work. "Bah! Come back tomorrow," he said. Fortunately I was in sniggering rather than affronted mode. I sniggered. I went back the next day and Mr. Overalls had the wheels off before I left to get a cup of coffee. When I went back 50 minutes later the car still had the old boots on. "Sorry," he said, "bit off a cock up on the ordering front. The tyres I thought were yours aren't yours. I was hoping the carrier might turn up at any minute." They didn't. The old tyres went back on the car. The next day it was third time lucky. The tyres were there and now they're on the car.
I had to go back to the SEAT dealer as a follow up to that routine service. They were going to replace a non essential part that had failed but they needed to order it so I had to wait. The woman on the reception recognised me, or more likely, the information held in the SEAT database gave her MI5 type information about me and she asked if I still wanted the tyres. I explained that I'd tried to buy them but that the wait had been too long so I'd gone elsewhere. "Odd," she said, "I'm sure we could have done them anytime. It's a quick job."
Do you ever suspect that some jobs are just fated?
