I was in a quandary. My garage needed a new roof. As I stood looking up at it and deciding what action I should take, Dave S walked up to me. He had with him, his recent custom build bike I sold him not two weeks previous.
"Wazup", I said, "How you liking that new ride I built up for you?"
"Love it dude. It's a beauty alright."
The way Dave said it though, I knew there was something wrong. I had owned a bike shop a long time and I could tell without hearing the customer whine, something was wrong.
"What's wrong Dave, something not right?"
"Well, now that you...."
Dave looked at the ground and mumbled. I could not hear him.
"Jeezum Dave spit it the fuck out...... What the fuck is wrong?"
Dave looks up. His face was not a happy face. I couldn't tell if he was mad or just sad. I reached for the bike.
"Let's throw it on the stand while you decide whether to tell me what's wrong or not."
"Okay"
Dave released the bike to me and we both went in the shop. I threw the bike up on the stand and gave it my standard repair triage to find out what was wrong. I noticed the bottom bracket was loose; not just loose but sloppy loose. Whoever installed it must have been an idiot. Since I was not an idiot, I knew immediately someone else had put a wrench to my "build".
I turned to Dave. He was still looking at the floor. His demeanor told me there was more to the story. I grabbed my crank extractor and had the crank arm off and on the bench in no time. That high end White Industries titanium endlessly adjustable bottom bracket with the stupid light alloy cups was loosy goosy. I bent down to get a better look and noticed the soft alloy tool flats were dinged, dented and mangled so bad, I knew I was right. Someone else had been fuckin with my "build".
"Whoever messed with this Dave is a moron........ If you had a problem, why didn't you bring it to me?"
Dave was still looking at the floor.
"Speak up goddammit. We're friends ferchrisakes. What happened?"
"Uh well,.... I .... you didn't answer your phone so I uh,....... took it to that new shop in south Sanford, "Ball Cycles ......... The owner, Jeff, said he could fix me right up."
I felt this huge wave of betrayal waft over me; leaving me speechless for a minute. Before I spoke, I gathered what wits I could find and in a calm voice, almost a whisper really:
"Did he fix it, ... you know, did he make it better?'
"No. He made it worse...."
Before Dave could finish his thought, I interrupted him:
"And now you will have to pay me to replace whatever parts he ruined with his ham fisted mechanics. I can tell you right now you will need new cups and bearings, but I think the Ti axle will be fine. They are more than tough, almost indestructible actually. .......Hopefully, I have some new cups in stock. White Industry parts aren't run of the mill."
I looked at Dave. He was miserable standing there with his hang dog look.
"Well, if you had answered.........."
"Don't even start. You knew I was up country for a visit with an old college buddy....... Just leave it and I will take care of it. I'll give you a call."
______________________
It has been more than a few years since my bike shop days popped up in one of my dreams. This one was about as close to a nightmare as I have ever had. Of course, this dream was just that. Dave S never brought me a bike like that. Actually, he may have been my favorite customer. He was and still is one of my great friends.
Remain calm. Dreams may come true but so what?
_____________________
Only one tune will fit the bill for this post. Here is "Bicycle Race", by Queen.
No comments:
Post a Comment