A Real Man’s Bike (Comments: 0)

So the other day I roll up the driveway, home from work, and prop The Bastard Son of The Frost Giant King against the garage while I turn off the lights. This guy comes up the driveway on foot asking if I have a minute. High on endorphins, I say “sure.”

He’s from the cable company. I tell him we don’t watch much tv and he can understand that doubling what we pay for cable doesn’t make a lot of sense. Then he says, “one more question, where do I go to get a real man’s bike?”

To be honest, the first thing I thought of was something you’d see bombing around London in the 1920s. But I guess that’s just me. I must’ve looked confused, so he explained, “you know, you go to Toys R Us and they have ladies bikes and kids bikes. Where do I get a real man’s bike?”

Ah.

We had some conversation about getting what you pay for. I explained that I paid $500 for my bike when it was new, which may sound like a lot of money to someone who buys a bike at Toys R Us, but I’ve had it for almost a decade. It’s my winter commuter and I put it through hell. It’s worth buying a real bike.

I told him to go to Downtube, because that’s my local bike shop and I’m loyal. I also told him about Klarsfeld’s way up Central. He knew where they were, but it had never occurred to him to go there. I said, “yeah, if you go to a real bike shop, you’ll get a real bike.” He laughed and said thanks.

A week later, I still feel good about helping someone who wanted a good bike.