Bike Shop (click to enlarge)

I HAD A flat tire. So I went to a bike shop. This shop dealt with cars as well, so they knew all about wheels I thought. I was in the right place, I thought. So I went up to the guy at the counter. ‘I’ve got a flat tire mate,’ I said. ‘I need some air in my tire and a patch up. Do you do that?’
He put his finger to his chin, gave me a confused look and said, ‘Well normally, yeah… uh, I dunno. We never really see those in here.’
‘What, wheelchairs?’ I said.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘You might have to see a specialist.’
‘A wheel specialist?’ I asked. ‘Someone who sees wheels on a daily basis as opposed to just waiting till the inspiration strikes?’
‘No, a medical…’
‘I don’t want a colonic irrigation, just a pumped tire.'
‘OK look,’ he said. ‘Hang on a sec, I’ll have a word with my colleague.’
The guy disappeared into the back room. After a second, he poked his head out of the door and said...