Written by: Bike Shop Bobby
Hey there, been a while hasn’t it? I’m still alive and kickin’ it down at the shop. Even though the economy’s in the toilet it seems every dirtbag and their brother still has room in their budget for a new fixed gear which adds nothing but joy in to my life.
Recently though we had a guy come into the shop who at first glance was the perfect douchebag to hop onto the indestructible fixed gear band wagon. And I say douchebag because he strolled in wearing an Ed Hardy t-shirt and a pair of Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses he refused to take off.
And you know what they say about people who wear sunglasses indoors, right?
Yeah this guy was the latter.
Anyway, this guy walked into the shop with the intention of walking out a mountain biker. For a minute, I thought I woke up back in 1995 when mountain bikes were the fixed gears of the day but then the guy explained to me that he’d read an article about mountain biking while he was getting a mani-pedi and decided that he wanted to give it a shot.
He sniffed his way straight to the line up of the most expensive bikes and proceeded to make an ass of himself.
“Hey ‘bro, which one of these is the most badass?”
“That kinda depends on what kind of riding you want to do.”
“Obviously I wanna go mountain biking.”
“I meant what’s your riding style?”
“You know ‘bro, I wanna tear it up and take it to Starbucks and stuff.”
For the next hour our Dude-Bro, rode just about every mountain bike we had in his size. He really thought the free ride bikes were the most badass but were too heavy and hard to lug to Starbucks.
Eventually he settled on our most expensive 5-inch travel carbon wonder bike that he made his own with a sweet set of bar ends that had been on display since the turn of the century.
Up at the front counter is where the real fun began. When given his total which was knocking on the door of 7 grand, Dude-Bro just stood there and calmly said, “Yeah, I ain’t payin’ that ‘bro.”
“C’mon ‘bro. Hook it up for me. I know you can do it.”
What I really wanted to say was “I know I can but I don’t want to.”
Instead, I offered to cut him a deal on his bar ends and throw in some free water bottles.
When that failed to appease him, Dude-Bro launched into a tirade which seemed very well rehearsed about how he should be entitled to a deal because he was buying something so expensive.
I countered his plea with a well rehearsed line of my own explaining how if the most expensive bike wasn’t in his budget we had plenty of less expensive bikes that he could check out.
“But times are tough ‘bro.”
“Then why are you looking at such an expensive bike? If you really want it I’m sure you could cut back getting manicures.”
Dude-Bro’s gym sculpted biceps could have squished me like a grape but I didn’t care. It was too good an opportunity to be a smart ass not to pass up. Just an FYI but the quickest way to not get a deal at a bike shop is to act like a jerk and haggle a over something you can obviously afford.
I don’t mean to brag but I get paid enough to buy 2.5 $5 Footlongs from Subway each and every hour I work. While this is a lot of purchasing power, it’s not even close to the level of Dude-Bro so it was really hard showing any sympathy.
Two excruciatingly difficult hours later, Dude-Bro finally left. Just so he’d leave I caved in and gave him a 10% discount, which at our shop is a discount you could get pretty much anyone can get as long as they’re the least bit nice but Dude-Bro had to earn it.
Because Dude-Bro wanted to look like a real mountain biker he ended up having us install a roof rack onto his car- a 7 series BMW with enough modifications to easily make it $100,000 car. One of my gear head colleagues had noticed that just the brakes cost more than what we both made it a year.
Since it was too late to take Dude-Bro’s discount back, I did the next best thing and put a curse on him as he drove out of the parking lot with his shiny new toy riding atop his shiny old toy. It was nothing bad like getting eaten by a bear or anything. Just a flat tire since his response to my suggestion of buying a frame pump was met with a “You can stop trying to up sell me ‘Bro.”
Five minutes after opening shop the next morning, I realized my supernatural powers could give Carrie a run for her money.
Dude-Bro was the first customer of the day but unlike the day before his swagger was gone and his shoulders were slumped in defeat- or they simply could have been slumped from the strain of lugging to halves of a broken bike through the front door.
Turns out that on the way home from the bike shop where he spent the better part of the day, Dude-Bro forgot about the new bike perched on the roof of his car and drove into his garage at Mach 3.
The bike was dead. Strands of carbon poked out every which way as if it had been cut in half by a chainsaw. But the really scary part was the broken bike was the least expensive thing damaged.
Dude-Bro drove into his garage so fast that the roof rack nearly peeled the roof off his car. He’d already been to the BMW dealer and was quoted $15,000 in body work and the night before his contractor buddy figured $40,000 should cover the damage to his house which apparently exploded upon impact.
“I don’t think this can be fixed but any chance I could be a deal on a new one?”
Somehow I was able to choke back my laughter long enough to get out the words. “Yeah, I bet we can work something out.”