Grease May Be The Word, But Not The Answer
Your bike isn’t an assault vehicle. It doesn’t work on crude. If your bike won’t shift its not because the chain longs for fossil products. Loving your chain doesn’t mean drowning it in muck. No tech wants to engulf themselves in a Exxon Valdez amount of sludge. There are some bikes that practically slide through the doors. If you see a tech grab the heavy gloves its not for extra care, its because they don’t want to spend 30 minutes scrubbing your grease, ball-sweat (or female equivalent) and everything else those magnets attract from their hands.
One thing that is a constant in the world of bicycle retail is the ever present chance to see some guy clicking through the store with his junk on display. The more experienced the rider the less the shame. Experienced riders however do understand that 2 seasons of hard riding kill off most kits. You can possibly get one extra fondo out of one if you religiously use light detergents and air dry. Newer riders show theirs off with an air of societal defiance. It’s a dick. We get it. It’s a big dick. Noted. Tie it up outside before you come in next time. We have a small store and space is at a premium.
Ladies click around the aisles as well, but somehow manage to not look as pathetic as guys. Women at least look tasteful. Snotty noses and sweat stains are totally welcomed. Shows a ride well ridden. With some of the guys its all dick and balls. Sometimes I want to remind dudes that we have children walking about. No need to add to their future therapeutic unresolved concerns.
“It’s Good To See You Again. Now Who The Fuck Are You?”
Nothing worse than the customer who visits seldomly yet expects you to remember everything about his last visit. Dude…I see a lot of people in a day and I used to smoke my fair share of pot. Please forgive me if I can’t discern your Trek 7.1 from the other 20 I’ve dealt with over the last week. Not that yours was taken any less seriously than anyone else’s but if your not a frequent shopper, have a kick-ass story, a total dick or Jesus Christ Himself, chances are it’s going to take a little something more than “remember me”, for me to actually remember you.