Phantastic

So, last Sunday I drove up to Bucks County and got a flat tire. I also got a piece of wood that could be carpentered down to my missing futon bar's dimensions. Those of you following the story closely should know: I called the movers, they went to the storage unit and asked somebody if there was access to the elevator shaft and they were told that yes, there was. The end result? I the prodigal futon bar returned (it wasn't really prodigal). All other possible narratives have slipped back into their proper place of fiction. Anyways, though I had a working sofa/futon, the flat tire remained an issue. I made an appointment for Saturday, at 9:30. I arrived at Main Line Honda at 9:20, pulled up to the service check in registered for service, mentioning my appointment. I then went into a small customer waiting area, where I remained for two hours. I finished A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers and saw bits of CNN (learned about the South Carolina plane crash without knowing that medium known music personalities were onboard), a good fifteen minutes of an episode of Hannah Montana (where they, as they often do, had at least two kids walk out to the end of the set to the 'beach'), some of This Old House and who knows what else. Fathers with little children came and went. One of the women in charge of service payment and answering telephones talked a lot about how stupid some of the phone calls were (see, here's my thing as someone who has answered phones before...I'm sure that the people she was talking to were being assholes and impatient but when your attitude makes them moreso can't you see you're making it worse? It's better to simply listen to their problems and try to figure out a way to appease them than it is to be rude, leave them on hold too long or generally antagonize them), which I would understand if there were a door between her and a whole room of customers who could easily imagine themselves on the other side of the phone. Two hours in I was a bit fed up. I think I should have been fed up after an hour but I wondered whether my reservation really meant anything and saw that people who were in before me were still there...but soon I saw a lot of people who came in after me, leave before me. After a bit of a wait, it was realized that my order/paperwork had somehow been unnoticed. They appeased me by saying that it would be another ten minutes and that they would knock half of the price of a new tire off. Oh yes, and the Phillies Phanatic showed up. I have video and additional photographs. Here is a taste.
In this one, the one below, he is jiggling his belly crotch at passing traffic. I'm not sure if you can really tell in the photograph.

So then, after I witnessed the mascot dance for a long while with pre-pubescent boys and kiss babies for enough time, I waited in the lounge for about another fifty minutes. This resulted in a very apologetic service coordinator and an absolutely free tire. It seems that my three hours of waiting was worth $102. I don't know if I'd recommend this place, even though they did right by me. The fact is that my paperwork was lost. But what else could they do but give me a free tire? What else would I have done if it had taken half an hour? There were at least two salesmen in their late fifties, early sixties, with ridiculously dyed hair (though at least one was more likely a toupee).