Last month I was driving through Montclair, New Jersey wishing I were bicycling instead, but my bike had two flat tires.
Instead of going to the store and spending $22 on a bike pump, I stopped in an upscale bike shop in that town and asked how much it would cost to get air in the tires. Two nice women answered me, one saying "air is free" and the other saying "They can check your brakes for $5 a bike too, but if something needs adjusting it will cost more.
Thanking them, I gather my bike and a friends, loaded them on my bike rack and went off to the store the next day. First mistake. They are CLOSED on Wednesdays. Oh well, my bad.
The next day, we did the same thing. The owner/manager was on the phone for 10 minutes having a social conversation before he could address me. I assume if he weren't the owner, he couldn't get away with that.
I explained that I was told air was free, and that while I hadn't used the bikes in two years, that two years ago I had put a $100 into them and used them exactly once. So I would like to know if anything needed tuning up (which I could do myself) but didn't want to spend more than $30 total. He said, no problem, explain that to the mechanics downstairs.
So I went downstairs and explained to the young man fixing bikes that I didn't plan on spending more than $30, and why.
He says, "Let me look at the bikes." One is a used mountain bike that I bought for $30. The other is an ancient Schwinn that cost $10 in a yard sale.
"Okay, I can fix them for you. That'll be $90 a piece, up front."
I admit, I raised my voice. "Are you CRAZY?"
He looked at me as if I had committed the most heinous of sins.
"Are YOU raising your voice at ME," he asked.
I paused for a moment, Montclair after all being a communist city, the might have an ordinance against loud talking. But I decided to take my chances.
"YOU'RE DAMNED RIGHT I AM RAISING MY VOICE AT YOU! ARE YOU INSANE?"
I and my friend grabbed our bikes to leave.
"Where are you going?" The young man asked surprised.
"Is there a problem?" The manager said, from the upstairs window, cell phone still in hand.
"YOUR EMPLOYEE WANTS TO RIP US OFF, AND HE IS SURPRISED WE AREN'T BUYING!" I shouted so that people up and down the street looked up, surprised.
"DON'T GO!" he shouted as we left.
Don't go, is right. $22 dollars and a pair of pliers and we are riding the bikes just fine.
Always wear a helmet. And use your head when dealing with salespeople.
Instead of going to the store and spending $22 on a bike pump, I stopped in an upscale bike shop in that town and asked how much it would cost to get air in the tires. Two nice women answered me, one saying "air is free" and the other saying "They can check your brakes for $5 a bike too, but if something needs adjusting it will cost more.
Thanking them, I gather my bike and a friends, loaded them on my bike rack and went off to the store the next day. First mistake. They are CLOSED on Wednesdays. Oh well, my bad.
The next day, we did the same thing. The owner/manager was on the phone for 10 minutes having a social conversation before he could address me. I assume if he weren't the owner, he couldn't get away with that.
I explained that I was told air was free, and that while I hadn't used the bikes in two years, that two years ago I had put a $100 into them and used them exactly once. So I would like to know if anything needed tuning up (which I could do myself) but didn't want to spend more than $30 total. He said, no problem, explain that to the mechanics downstairs.
So I went downstairs and explained to the young man fixing bikes that I didn't plan on spending more than $30, and why.
He says, "Let me look at the bikes." One is a used mountain bike that I bought for $30. The other is an ancient Schwinn that cost $10 in a yard sale.
"Okay, I can fix them for you. That'll be $90 a piece, up front."
I admit, I raised my voice. "Are you CRAZY?"
He looked at me as if I had committed the most heinous of sins.
"Are YOU raising your voice at ME," he asked.
I paused for a moment, Montclair after all being a communist city, the might have an ordinance against loud talking. But I decided to take my chances.
"YOU'RE DAMNED RIGHT I AM RAISING MY VOICE AT YOU! ARE YOU INSANE?"
I and my friend grabbed our bikes to leave.
"Where are you going?" The young man asked surprised.
"Is there a problem?" The manager said, from the upstairs window, cell phone still in hand.
"YOUR EMPLOYEE WANTS TO RIP US OFF, AND HE IS SURPRISED WE AREN'T BUYING!" I shouted so that people up and down the street looked up, surprised.
"DON'T GO!" he shouted as we left.
Don't go, is right. $22 dollars and a pair of pliers and we are riding the bikes just fine.
Always wear a helmet. And use your head when dealing with salespeople.
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