One of the things that differentiates the working class from the capitalists in Twisted Roots is where they spend their money. For example, there was more than one place to buy a tire and where you went said something about who you were.

A member of the working class would buy their tires from the Rural Roundup which had tires for every size vehicle including tractors and combines. If you were neither working nor had class, you bought a tire that would last only as long as the piece of crap riding on the tire. (Here I'm referring to the car, not the driver.) That kind of tire could be gotten just about anywhere, such as at a rummage sale or, if you were lucky, you might find one discarded in the alley behind some of the better homes in town. If you were really lucky and a little loose with your morals, that tire might be inside of a garage whose door had been carelessly left open.

However, if you were a member of the capitalists in town, you would call up the Tire Emporium and they would send a man to change your tire at the location where you need it. Then about 30 days later, the Emporium would send out an invoice for the cost of the tire and the labor. Although there might be an advantage in the convenience, the tires at the Tire Emporium cost about twice what the same tire would cost at the Rural Roundup.

Gil Garrison, the mayor, managed to find combine convenience with savings when he found himself stranded behind the Historical Society with not one, but two flat tires. It was unlikely that the tires had just gone flat on their own, but even without the slash marks, Gil might have been experiencing a little paranoia due to the fact that it was late at night, the Historical Society had been closed for the last five hours, and the Laurie, the Society's youthful director, lived on the second floor of the old house. He had to think of someone that he could call that had a few of his own skeletons in the proverbial closet in case questions might arise. Gil was relieved when Tom from Terry's Corner answered the phone and was willing to bring one of his own spare tires over to the Historical Society.

There was hardly room for a pair of slippers in Tom's closet.