E R N I E ' S   H O U S E   O F   W H O O P A S S

Tires, And The Proper Usage Of The Word Jew As A Verb.

They say when it rains it pours, and evidently tires are no exception because after I took my TT in for some scheduled maintenance yesterday, they pointed out the right rear tire was balder than a spanked baby's ass. And let me tell you, low profile Y rated tires ain't fucking cheap, either. The service guy was happy to inform me they had them in stock for only $298 per tire, plus tax! Woo hoo! That set of tires -- Michelin Pilot Sport PS2s -- went on in the summer of 2003 and only have 35,000 miles on them. Now I know they're made of a softer compound for better traction and thus don't have an extended treadlife, but I was very disappointed in how quickly they wore out. I paid more for those than I did for the BFGs on my truck, but only got one third of the mileage. Fuck that. So I went on the hunt for a less expensive replacement (a Jew tire...) and after reading a lot of the reviews on tirerack, settled upon a set of Sumitomo HTR Z III as a good alternative. The only bad reviews I read were those from people with rolling mullets (Mustang, Camaro, Trans Am) and most of those complaints began with, "I've got 450 rear wheel horsepower...," so I felt pretty confident about my Sumitomo selection.

You know what, Shlomo is absolutely right. And so using my tire purchasing experience as an example, I will dedicate this post to educating you all on the proper usage of the word Jew. So while the word 'Jew' isn't quite as versatile as say, the word 'fuck', it's still a regular part of my everyday vocabulary. Example, as a verb: "Dude, don't try to Jew me out that extra six bucks, either." And as a noun: "C'mon dude the bill was $10, so tip like a Jew." And finally like earlier this week, as an adjective: "I don't want to chintz out with some Jew tire.” This last one is a little tricky as the meaning is completely counter-intuitive as to what you'd expect, but don't worry we'll get into examples of each in just a moment.

So anyway now faced with having to buy not one but two(!) complete sets of tires, I reluctantly came to grips with the fact that I was going to go to bed considerably lighter in the wallet than when I had woken up. And all this happens two weeks after Christmas, of course, but the tires are so fucking bad I really can't wait. My only saving grace is at barely 5,000 miles a year per vehicle, this is quite possibly the last sets of sneakers for the forseeable future. Plus, I know that going in to buy two sets of tires is a little bit of a bargaining chip, so I should be able to negotiate a better deal than if I were only buying one set. I did my usual calling around to collect prices, the same as before; Costco, Sears, Tires Plus, Tire Kingdom, Tires-R-Us, Tires-R-You, Tire Father, Tire Mother, Tire Uncle, blah-blah-blah. Costco comes in at the best prices for the truck tires but doesn't carry the tires I want for my car. Next best price is [TIRESHOP], which is cool because they're a local franchise of a national chain with a pretty good presence; a good thing when considering a road hazard warranty. The guy behind the counter seems somewhat reluctant to deal and come in at $155 each for the car tires, with an out the door total of $793 after: mounting and balancing, road hazard warranty, mandatory state tire fees, shop fees, and 6% sales tax. I can of course print out an internet coupon for $40 off, but here's a clue... coupons are for suckers. Coupons are a Jewish consolation prize. Why? Because I can Jew (verb: dicker, bargain, negotiate, deal, haggle) off much more than $40.

And this brings us to step one of Jew'ing (verb: present tense) some money off the bill. "Fine," says I, "I'll take the $40 coupon but no road hazard warranty ($14 a tire), it's too expensive." I'm being a Jew (noun: cheap bastard, penny pincher, tight fisted prick) and lower my grand total to $697. I hand over the keys and they start to work on the car.

Now it's time to turn my attention to the truck's tires. And here's where I thought I was really going to get lucky. As it just so happens, Sears is running a sale on the very same BFGs I'm looking for. They will beat anyone else's price by 10%. Or so I thought. [TIRESHOP]'s original price on the BFGs was $211, but at my prodding they lowered the price to $196 per tire, reducing the out-the-door cost to $967. And with Tire Kingtom's quote in hand my fingers danced across my cell phone's keypad, dialing the local Sears automotive shop. With [TIRESHOP]'s quote of $196 a tire, that means Sears will sell me the BFGs for $177... quite the score! Only... not so much. I misread the ad. They'll match any price and knock 10% off the difference, not the tire. What's the difference per tire? A whopping $7 -- for a grand total of $2.80 off the entire set of four. Uh, yeah. That was quite a shock. I was hoping to head back into [TIRESHOP] with a quote of $177 per tire from Sears and a 'match it or I'll go elsewhere' ultimatum but now I have no such weapon in my arsenal. Damn.

I sit under the Florida sun and think for a minute before heading back in to Jew (verb) some more money off the truck tires. "How much if we knock off the road hazard on the BFGs and use the coupon?" That knocks the bill down to $871. "C'mon! I'm buying two full sets of tires here, can you do a little better on that, maybe get it down to the $850 range?" "Nope, I can't." So now this guy is trying to Jew (verb: stingy, cheap, closed fisted) me out of an extra $20. Nah, I say, I'll pass. Now begins the waiting game during which I briefly consider putting Jew (adjective: inexpensive, low, low-cost, low-priced) tires on my truck. But it's here that the management of [TIRESHOP] exposed the kink in their armor. I overhear one of the managers complaining about how they have only sold nine tires so far that day. The Jew (adjective) part of me leaps on this opportunity, "I'd love to make it thirteen if you can work with a little more on some truck tires." The manager is intrigued and calls me over. I lay out both price quotes and as he looks them over. I explain that I'd be dropping over fifteen hundred dollars on two sets of tires. He punched the keys on the computer and comes back, "Really, $196 is the best we can do on the BFGs. That's almost at cost and we're only making money on the mounting and balancing." Probably not true, but that's the dance. See, this guy is willing to negotiate, and I like that!

We compare the two totals, as is; $1,565. I give a long slog, dramatic whistle looking down at the paperwork, "That's a big hunk of change. But let me ask you this. How about you add a road hazard warranty to both sets of tires, and I get out of here for an even $1,600 on the nose?" The manager wrinkles his nose a big and looks down at the paperwork and I can see some hesitation on his face. So I prod him onwards, "Because if you can do that, I'll take all eight tires today." See that number intrigues him; it nearly doubles his daily total in one sale! He turns his attention to the grease smeared computer with the yellow stained plastic keyboard that sits behind the counter, "So," he mumbled to himself, "I have to add $56 to each bill (bring the total to $1,681) and have to get the bill down to sixteen hundred..." More nose wrinkling, and even a rub of the stubble on his chin. "I honestly can't do any more on the BFGs, like I said I'm at the wall on those," he says to no one in particular, "but I think I can do a little better on the Sumitomos..." And after a few more minutes of keyboard play, I'm presented with a final bill of $1,604. The guy I was originally dealing with looks over the managers shoulder and upon seeing the re-written deal, scoffs before turning away in defeat. I smirk. Rookie.

The Sumitomos are nice tires; a little firmer than the Michelins they replaced but still give exceptional road response. They've got less than ten miles on em, so no high speed corners yet. The BFGs get put on today (they had to order them from Ft Myers warehouse). I ended up Jew'ing (verb) $113 off the Sumitomos and $103 off the BFG's, plus got two full road hazard warranties for $20 each -- saving $288 all said and done. Eh not bad. But I'm sure Shlomo could have done better.

And to explain a little further about using Jew as an adjective, as in, "that's a cheap Jew tire...". Actually, it's an untrue reflection upon a Jew's true bargaining prowess. Listen, I got nothing but love for the Jews but you have to realize, these people are not to be trifled with! A Jew doesn't walk into a Walmart and expect to pay Walmart prices, a Jew walks into Ethan Allen and expects to pay Walmart prices -- and does! So in the truest sense of the word, my BFG's are a Jew tire because they're of the highest quality yet purchased at a lower price than the merchant was asking. But using the word in that sense doesn't sound very cool, or very funny. Hence, I have chosen to adopt the figurative definition instead of the literal one; inexpensive, low, low-cost, low-priced. Thus it would be appropriate (and quite funny!) for you to show up late for work and say to your boss, "Sorry I'm late but that Jew alarm clock I bought on clearance last week didn't go off this morning." Besides, everyone knows a true Jewish tire not only stops on a dime, but picks it up too!

Hopefully today's lesson will educate you to use this racial epithet more appropriately. So... Jew forth and be happy!