New tyres of the year.

I looked at my tyres.

I had just skidded across an ice-free bend so I thought I should stop and check them.

Hmm.

I rang the tyre changing place and booked myself in.

I’m in their reception area now – I can see through the glass window into the workshop where my car is hoisted up on a hoister upper thingy.

A mechanic, leastways a guy in an overall, is standing there hitting the wheel nuts with a hammer.

Apparently nothing moves that should.

I had taken the car to the car wash half an hour before I came, I was embarrassed enough by the layers of mud and clay that made my tyres look like brown ones, but I wasn’t expecting this.

Unfortunately I left the window open whilst the car was in the car wash so the seats are a bit wet and soapy.

The mechanic, who sat there, was not expecting that.

The mechanic drove the car onto the hoister upper thingy.

The mechanic had to change his overall.

The receptionist asked me if the tyres they are changing – I had requested winter ones - were to be kept (for the summer).

I said I though they were pretty worn and probably weren’t worth it.

She said she would check.

She checked.

She has just informed me that they would like to use them in an exhibit at the road safety museum.