My tire hazard light came on while I drove through Reading on the freeway.
I pulled off, checked pressure at a gas station. Seemed fine, but I still had a lot of driving to do.
I spotted Fazio's, with its 1950s Los Angeles drive-in decor (Quentin Tarantino would love this) and multiple lovingly maintained antique Corvettes sprawled around the property. Mr. Fazio dropped everything, palpably personally worried about my situation.
He double checked my pressure, looked for bubbles, ruminated for a minute, then suggested I inflate them above Mazda's suggestion. He says my tires can easily handle more air and would drive better. So he inflated them higher, checked again, and refused payment, so I offered a pie from my car (I had several from Pennsylvania Dutch Country).
He refused the lemon sponge pie and pointed longingly at the shoofly. My best pie. He's smart. He knows how to choose a pie. I hope he loved it, and want to send him more pie, because he was lovely to meet and talk to, his shop is awesome, and I left feeling great. I'm sad about losing my best pie, but I feel like 1. it was inevitable that he'd win, and 2. he deserved to win.
So don't offer Mr. Fazio pie. He's way too smart and crafty. But do go to him for service. Or just to hang out and admire his 'Vettes. Also check out the working pay phone booth inside. It's a delight. The whole damned place is nothing but delight. read more