The Tyranny of Two-Wheel Transport Mechanicism

I said to Nina recently that some of the assistance I've sought recently (specfically, bike fixin') would have come more readily if i had been a pretty girl. Yeah, she said, but there's a tarnished side to that coin as well - having super-cyclodudes (or super-skate/boardshop dudes and so on) think that yer a dim bulb who will buy their wares hook, cable, and bearing. And Nina's a girl who is selective about eyelash battery.

Super-cyclodudes (generally, so don't go crying if you're different) are an oxymoronic bunch: 1) they are the only ones who know bike repair AND/OR/BUT-MOSTLY-AND 2) they think you're a total idiot if you don't know shit about bike repair.

I know. I am also confused.

R**n, the head mechanic (at least in attitude, if not actual hierarchy) at my home bike shop, I M*rt*n in L** A*gel*s CA, is not a bad guy. He is hyper- knowledgeable yet hyper -stressed. If you ask an innocent question meant to deepen your self-sufficiency, such as: What might cause a spoke to break?, he will sigh expansively and seemingly think of a more bliss-making pill he could be swallowing than the bitter one you've just shoved in his angry maw. But then he'll see your eyes widen in surprise, then narrow to match your mouth's ego-busted sneer, or alternately just deaden. The compromise is he makes you 2 each of the 3 spokes your bike tires need, and he won't charge you cuz he's being a dick and he really doesn't wanna be. He's just a genius who's stressed and wishes you just weren't that fuckin' stupid but ultimately he's alright with it since if you didn't exist - we weren't born with bike maintenance tattooed to our brains - he would have to find an alternate line of work. And, crimey, in this economy! So i got free spokes after a straight dude clawed my eyes.

I didn't get face-time, however, with B*n, the "head mechanic" of Capit*l H*ll B*kes in DC where i shipped Whitey J to get reassembled. Larry, my brother-in-law had volunteered to pick up Whitey there where he had referred me, since he knows the owner, does business with her. B*n claimed my saddle was all loose and didn't know what was up with it and reported that the rear rack had been "damaged" in the shipping and, therefore, was too bent to be mounted. Larry asked why he wasn't called to let us know before he went to pick up the bike to which B*n replied he didn't have our number (except, i guess, when the shop had called the previous day to tell us it would be ready later than expected, though the bike had arrived 2 full days ahead of schedule.) I practically begged B*n's mercy via telephone: if i can find an REI and get a new rack and get back there before 7, can you please slap it on there?? Please? ... *expansive sigh* No, there's a lot of people waiting in line here. Basically, no, you can do it yourself, do the job my establishment promised you we'd do that you're obviously unfit to do on your own. I'm a bike mechanic, see, and all y'all wanna piece of me.

So Larry returned with Whitey, nearly fainting from embarrassment at being naked (the bike, not Larry), save for his shiny new fenders (neither rack, front or back, had been installed).

But, folks at home, there's a silver lining: REI! My sister, her family and I went to the DC version of the place where, 3,000 miles away in Santa Monica, i bought those racks. As it turned out, the rear rack wasn't too bent. Capit*l Hell B*kes is just lazy-ass and doesn't care whether I'm able to begin my Journey. And i cajoled REI's Mart*n into finishing the job within a few hours. During that time, we went out for decent Italian. Turned out not to be particularly easy for Mart*n but he did it, he saved the day! And i don't think i batted my eyelashes; I was more outwardly desperate than coy... But the silver lining isn't quite made of silver. It's more like a nickel-plated lining...the mounted front rack looks somewhat different than how it was back in LA. Mart*n made me feel that there was perhaps a 17.5% chance that it wouldn't quite make it all the way with "heavy children" in the front panniers. Good thing i gave that hobby up when i picked up adventure cycling instead.