Mohommad, the Tire Guy

My brother-in-law just got a Jeep that is in pretty bad need of tires. My father-in-law calls the other day and says he's found a used tire dealer right near the store that has a great deal on a set of tires. New readers and divas are probably asking why I'm the go to guy for tires and books. Simple. My last job was in the antique automotive industry and one of my main jobs was wheels and tires. I know more about tires than any three tire shop guys can tell you, and I know all their tricks they pull to suck you in to something you don't need. I (and my former co-workers of course) are a tire shops worst enemy. They hate it when people know the truth, and know what they're talking about, therefore when they feed me a line of bs and I call them on it, they hate me. So, my father-in-law asked me to go check this place out and see what kind of tires he was getting a price on and if they were a good deal. He said "Ask for Mohommad, tell him I sent you to look at my tires." I don't know too many 'Mohommad's' that own tire shops so I was expecting to see a service station with a Kwik-E-Mart attached to it. What I found was a used tire dealer, filled to the gills with Arabs. I don't mean that in a racist way, I mean I walked in the door, everyone behind the counter had on a head wrap - call that a rag if you'd like - a white robe, and the women had their faces covered. The guy in charged looked much like Yasser Arafat would have had he owned a tire shop...this guy was dressed like every picture of him I'd ever seen so that should give you a good mental picture of the place. It was wall to wall tires...used tires...take offs...tires that were sent to be disposed of that he'd come in to possession of for free and was making a living off of it. After talking to him for a minute I'd already decided what to tell the in-laws about these tires. Then he starts telling me to "Listen, listen, listen," as he tells me everything I need to know about tires and tire sizes. I tried to be polite and say I knew what he was trying to explain but he insisted that I did not. I listened for a minute and said "Look Jihad, I used to work at (insert former employer here...they're that well known), I know about tires and wheels. I probably know more about them than everyone in this shop put together and what you're telling me is not correct. Not even a little bit." He turned white as the towel on his head. Then apologized profusely and said in his best Gandhi voice "Most of my customers don't know anything and that's how I make my living." We talked another minute and he offered to sell me anything I wanted at cost and he'd extend the deal to my in-laws that he could manage. At that point I had to ask..."Hey Mohommad? Who's my bitch?" He hung his head and agreed that he was. While I might own a bookstore, and I might wear my five o'clock shadows for days at a time, I'm not stupid. Outside of finishing up our returns for the semester not much else is happening here. If anybody else needs help with their friendly, or not so friendly neighborhood tire guy just let me know. That's what I'm here for.