Dear [local bicycle shop] Dudes,
You guys are all fairly cool. I’m able to pick up on that because you all wear those bicycle-chain bracelets. Also, some of you have spikey hair and funny glasses. The other thing you do that helps give me a sense of your coolness is that you talk to me as if I’m a stupid chucklehead. I appreciate that.
Thanks especially for adopting your best what-the-f-do-you-want-to-do-that-for? expression when I explained that I want to replace a high-end part of my low-end bike with an easier-to-use part. I understand the fabulousness of clipless pedals. Really. I’ve had some on my crappy bike for a good while. As you no doubt know, given your cool expertise, you have to wear special shoes with the clipless pedals. I’d rather just laze along with my regular shoes, thanks. It’s helpful that you made me feel like a chump for wanting to do that. When I muttered, "Sorry to disappoint you guys," it's probably best that you didn't even acknowledge me. I was getting pretty cocky and all, coming in there, asking for some K-Mart bike parts. Whatta poser.
Your bike mechanics were spot-on, too, when I asked my stupid question. What I needed was some good old pedantry from a couple of guys who could show me a thing or two about my place in the bike shop, which appears to be outside the bike shop. Next time I’ll bring an offering to indicate my submissiveness before their bike-mechanic brilliance. I don’t know. Maybe a Huffy or something?
It seems to me that the greatest advantage of elite bike shop culture is its ability to keep all those folks off their bikes. If only metropolitan D.C. could find a way to encourage more folks to drive, imagine the benefits… Thanks, bike shop, for discouraging those who might be thinking about pedaling to work.
Humbly,
That Guy Who Just Wanted Some Damn Pedals