This wouldn't mean my neighbour knocking at the door to advise me of my car's flat tyre - although it was nice of him and it was also a surprise, but the real nice surprise transpired in the events which followed.
Fortunately, he had also suggested any breakdown cover I happened to have might cover it, which it turned out - rather nicely and surprisingly too - did. So the temporary wheel was on within a few hours and a trip to the garage was in order the following morning.
This is a little place not too far from us whose owner and mechanics only see me when I'm desperate. My car is old but good, rarely serviced because of the expense and only begrudgingly MOTd because it has to be. Every visit is accompanied by me charmingly begging them to please not cost me too much money if they can help it and they are generally obliging.
When I first moved to the area and had a problem with my brakes, they advised me that it was due to the amount of rain we'd had combined with the car not having been moved for a few days and that it would soon sort itself out, sending me on my way with no charge whatsoever, and, indeed, they were proved correct.
Another time, there was a problem with the exhaust and a similar scenario ensued. On each occasion they could have exploited the lone, ignorant female as some workers are wont to but they didn't so, naturally, I could never go anywhere else and my business has been theirs for several years now.
Seeing my pained expression at even having to be there recently whilst trying to maintain control of the half naked Fearsome Four Year Old sent them searching for a part worn tyre to replace the tiny one. As it happens I'm not too keen on them and they weren't successful in that regard, but while one of them was off looking, the other one and I investigated a dodgy looking patch by the petrol cap that had suddenly become faded compared to the rest of the car.
It looked like there must have been a bit of a previous respray and he muttered something about T-cutting. I mentioned a small bottle with a similarly sounding label in the boot with the right colour that a friend's husband had given me, erroneously assuming gratitude and the kind of time and inclination on my part that might find it useful and before you could say 'That'll be £60 for a brand new tyre, please' he'd found it, splashed a load on a cloth and was working on the offending area.
Then he got his mate involved and once the wheel was changed they were both at it. It wasn't T-cutting but some sort of polish. NEVER have I been more grateful that the childrens' obsession with the local car wash had meant it wasn't in its normal shoddy state but it did mean that all the scratches and marks galore were very easily spotted and sorted!
So while the little one got on with this in the office, in between bursts of playing with their air machine, causing havoc and running amok:-
The men got on with this, with whatever this special polish was, covering the entire car in it.
And then he got his buffer out!
And my faith in humankind was renewed.
There was no charge for this either. They were bored, they said, quiet, wanted something to do, but there were cars in and out all the time, so there was work there if they wanted it. The owner might have minded but he certainly never even hinted at it.
I guess that's what you call going the extra mile and for a local garage, to be doing that for cars is kind of par for the course, but to be doing it for customers is something special, isn't it?
When has this sort of thing happened to you?
