I had to move out on my own when I was 17. I had no money at all and drove an old clunker Camry. I got a flat tire to match the flat spare in the trunk. I went to the Discount Tire on the East Side of Indianapolis, where I was living, to see if they could patch it.
When they got it on the rack, they said that belts were showing around the tire–in fact, all of the tires–and I would have to replace all four tires.
I thanked them, went outside, sat in my car and started crying. The manager came out and knocked on the window. He said that he had a set of tires that would fit my wheels that someone left when they got new tires. I told him thanks, but didn’t have any money. He told me not to worry about it and when I graduate, to come back and buy my tires from them.
This was ten years ago and I’ve always bought tires from them. In fact, my wife, son and I moved away to Brooklyn, NY. Last fall, when making our final visit home for the year to visit my wife’s family, I drove, just so I could get new tires there. They’re all still really nice guys.