Seriously? A busted tyre on a 38 degree day? The gods must be playing some kind of cruel trick on me, especially since I’m wearing my good suit – the one that only works when I’m in air conditioning. So here I am on the side of the motorway, trying to arrange a mobile mechanic to come and save me, all the while cursing myself for not ticking the ‘roadside assistance’ box on my insurance forms.
Some might say I should know how to change a tyre by now, and have a spare on me for good measure. Well, I don’t. I’ve spent the better part of my adult years becoming skilled at other things, thank you very much, which is why I have that big meeting today in Brighton. Tyre and auto stuff really hasn’t been at the forefront of my mind. What can I say? I was hoping to close that deal today.
On the upside, I just got a call from the other party saying that he couldn’t make it on time, either. Given the traffic sounds in the background, I had to wonder if he’d been caught out with car problems as well. Naturally, I didn’t tell him that I was also delayed – better to leave myself in the position of power. If he feels badly about it, he’ll be more likely to meet my terms. At least, that’s my strategy.
See, that’s my area of expertise. I’m good with the dealing, just not so much with the wheeling side of things. But hey – if I can afford the best mobile mechanic Brighton has to offer, it all balances out. No man is an island, right?
But what if this other guy is? What if he’s changing his own tyre as we speak, or even getting inside the bonnet, looking like a stock photo of a confident businessman who also knows how to fix a car? That would give him power over me, surely, and I’d have to submit to his proposal.