To the garage, to get a WOF.
I think the tires might need replacing, you say.
Leave it with us, they say.
When you return, you notice the tyres are the same.
In fact nothing appears to have been done.
We fixed your birdshit problem, they tell you.
My what, now? you ask.
Your birdshit problem.
We got almost all of it off, there's only a speck left.
But there wa…