Me too! And it was a rather “eventful” situation.
Was driving through a small town last night and started to hear the telltale ticking noise of a screw in the tyre. Got out to have a look and sure enough, big screw lodged right in the middle and the tyre is visibly going down.
As luck would have it, I was only a few metres from a tyre repair shop, so I stopped outside and went in. Obviously, these places are not normally beautiful and clean, but this one was the worst I’ve ever seen - empty beer cans and bottles of wine everywhere, rubbish stacked several metres high etc.
The owner then came out from the back, covered in grease from head to toe, looking completely out of it. I should probably have driven off at the point where he was using his fingers to try to find the holes in the wheel for the wheel nuts, but I didn’t fancy calling my breakdown cover, so I persevered.
It soon became apparent that he was utterly off his **** on something much stronger than alcohol, and I don’t think he could actually see anything beyond vague shapes and colours. After getting the wheel off, he was unable to remove the tyre himself, so I put it on the machine myself and managed to do it by sitting on the bar attached to the wedge thing (technical term) and then using a crowbar with a cloth wrapped around it to remove the tyre.
He kept muttering incoherently and bringing me tools; some were useful, others had absolutely no relevance to the situation. I ended up doing the entire repair myself, at which point he staggered upstairs, still muttering random words.
He didn’t ask me for any money, and I wasn’t inclined to give him any. So free tyre repair, plus I’ve learnt a lifelong skill in case I find myself in this situation again