Gerald’s Tire & Brakes
1 Magnolia Road. West Ashley.
Recently, I discovered a spike the size of a screwdriver in my left rear tire. No problem, I thought. I’ll take it to Gerald’s down the street from my house in West Ashley. I left the car there and 20 minutes later, a guy called. Your tire’s fixed, he said. I walked back, stood in line again, and waited while the evident confusion among employees worked itself out. The guy at the counter kept calling back to the garage wanting to know what had been done to my car. He was getting more impatient by the second. Finally, he went back and growled some. Then a young guy in glasses and covered in grease barked back. “It’s done, guldangit,” he said, “I done already told you.” Or something like that. I couldn’t really tell. What I did understand was this: No charge. The guy slapped my keys down and repeated: No charge. The universal language.