Saturday, November 6, 2010
Cannondale Touring Bikes Feb 4 2011
To the customers that were in the store today (Feb 4 2011) I had a massive brain fart turns out that I do infact have 1 Xl Cannondale Touring 1 in stock. I am going to have that built today so it will be ready when you decide to come in next to get your bikes. Thanks. Evan
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Modern Day Gunslingers Nov 1 2010
Today had two main goals. Clean the bike, and go to school. Sounds simple but those two things ended up taking all day.
After getting the car moved out of the garage so that I could pull my bike in I suited up in all of my grease monkey gear. Then I proceeded to neatly line up all of my cleaning and polishing stuff just so that I can make a mess of everything within an hour.
To be honest I did not know where to start so I just started polishing metal. Dad turned me on to autosal which works about 100000000 times better then the mothers garbage I was dealing with before. It almost instantly brought shine back to bit that looked pitted and gross. As well it got rid of a lot of the ugly rust spots on key bolts and highlight pieces. The only problem was that once you did one piece you saw another, then another, then another. Then you realize you have been polishing for 3 hours and you haven’t even started on the paint yet.
After the first hours I decided that I should just take a break from doing small circles and switch muscle groups and start doing larger circle with the clay bar, and wax. I was amazed at the difference in paint quality between my car and the bike. When I clayed the car and looked at the bar it was stricken with blue patches. When I did the same to the bike it came up with nothing. Just goes to show you the difference in paint quality. Then came the wax. Waxing is actually strangely therapeutic. Something about covering every square inch of surface area then just waiting before you wipe it off is just awesome.
Covered in cleaning stuff it was time for a shower. I needed to get the smell of turtle wax off of me and move on with the day. Moving on came in the form of a nap, which will be simulated by this long break in paragraphs.
“Evan do you have your questions ready for the people at BCIT”? Great way to wake up and the argument after wards was exponentially more special. Still though we decided to make the semi awkward car ride out to BCIT. Something about a car rid after an argument brings out the old west in all of us because at first you are just like a couple of gunslingers in the same car.
The information night for radio broadcasting was super interesting and is defiantly something I want to pursue but there is just no money in it. They say pursue what your passions are but it is also nice to have dinner on the table each night, and to have a table to put it on. So we will see how my other pokers in the fire come out before I make and choices.
After getting the car moved out of the garage so that I could pull my bike in I suited up in all of my grease monkey gear. Then I proceeded to neatly line up all of my cleaning and polishing stuff just so that I can make a mess of everything within an hour.
To be honest I did not know where to start so I just started polishing metal. Dad turned me on to autosal which works about 100000000 times better then the mothers garbage I was dealing with before. It almost instantly brought shine back to bit that looked pitted and gross. As well it got rid of a lot of the ugly rust spots on key bolts and highlight pieces. The only problem was that once you did one piece you saw another, then another, then another. Then you realize you have been polishing for 3 hours and you haven’t even started on the paint yet.
After the first hours I decided that I should just take a break from doing small circles and switch muscle groups and start doing larger circle with the clay bar, and wax. I was amazed at the difference in paint quality between my car and the bike. When I clayed the car and looked at the bar it was stricken with blue patches. When I did the same to the bike it came up with nothing. Just goes to show you the difference in paint quality. Then came the wax. Waxing is actually strangely therapeutic. Something about covering every square inch of surface area then just waiting before you wipe it off is just awesome.
Covered in cleaning stuff it was time for a shower. I needed to get the smell of turtle wax off of me and move on with the day. Moving on came in the form of a nap, which will be simulated by this long break in paragraphs.
“Evan do you have your questions ready for the people at BCIT”? Great way to wake up and the argument after wards was exponentially more special. Still though we decided to make the semi awkward car ride out to BCIT. Something about a car rid after an argument brings out the old west in all of us because at first you are just like a couple of gunslingers in the same car.
The information night for radio broadcasting was super interesting and is defiantly something I want to pursue but there is just no money in it. They say pursue what your passions are but it is also nice to have dinner on the table each night, and to have a table to put it on. So we will see how my other pokers in the fire come out before I make and choices.
NEW BIKE Oct 31 2010
Today was the day. I decided last night that a 1991 srx 400 was going to be my first bike. I know that getting a grey market bike means finding parts will be more difficult but hey look at the first car I bought, that isn’t the most practical vehicle either. Plus that money was burning a whole in my pocket.
After re looking at a bunch of the bikes I had contemplated I came to the same conclusion. 99% of the people selling are high, and the other 1% are selling crap. The nice thing with Ben is that he is a good guy, selling a decent bike. So bam it’s the winner.
The phone call to meet up was a little nerve racking so I made it as quick and awkward as possible, and I think we were both left with a feeling of “what just happened”. Before I knew it dad was on the doorstep and we were on the way over.
Now after giving ben the money and signing some papers we were off to insure it to get the bike home. Strike one for dads patience came when the first insurance place was close so we had to go all the way over into port coquitlam again to meridian auto (which I like dealing with better anyways. Strikes two and three both came when we realized that I forgot the paper work for the bike with ben. So even though we had the key really ben still owned the bike and had my money. Not going to lie I was a little nervous about this prospect as well so I was very prompt in calling him.
On the phone it seemed as if ben was expecting it because he said it would not be a problem and he would be there in a few minutes. A few minutes passed and he still was not there. Then the phone rang. I was half expecting him to say, “see yea”, but he was simply at the wrong insurance place which is a easy to do because within this one block there is about 3 insurance agencies, that just goes to show you what a rip off it all is.
It turned out to be a good thing he came because the original paperwork was filled out incorrectly so he would have had to re fill it all out again. In the end it all worked out and I had to watch my dad leave with ben to go pick it up. The first ride on my first motorcycle was going to be done by my dad.
There it was right on my driveway, my first bike. I expected it all to be golden but dad had some bad news for me. We need to do a complete overhaul on the suspension because it is just f’ed. I could not care less though I love my bike. Within 30 minutes of having it I could not let it sit so there I was on the street trying my hardest to hide my nerves. I slowly let out the clutch and…. Pop. I stalled. Tried again and I had the same outcome. I just was not getting it. Then slowly I started to get it. Then even slower I started to turn, and even slower then that I started to get comfortable.
After about 30 minutes I decided it was best for me to quit while I was ahead. And park it in its new shed before it started to pour rain again.
O yea and there were some strangely dressed kids knocking at the door that we had to give some candy to in order to make them leave.
After re looking at a bunch of the bikes I had contemplated I came to the same conclusion. 99% of the people selling are high, and the other 1% are selling crap. The nice thing with Ben is that he is a good guy, selling a decent bike. So bam it’s the winner.
The phone call to meet up was a little nerve racking so I made it as quick and awkward as possible, and I think we were both left with a feeling of “what just happened”. Before I knew it dad was on the doorstep and we were on the way over.
Now after giving ben the money and signing some papers we were off to insure it to get the bike home. Strike one for dads patience came when the first insurance place was close so we had to go all the way over into port coquitlam again to meridian auto (which I like dealing with better anyways. Strikes two and three both came when we realized that I forgot the paper work for the bike with ben. So even though we had the key really ben still owned the bike and had my money. Not going to lie I was a little nervous about this prospect as well so I was very prompt in calling him.
On the phone it seemed as if ben was expecting it because he said it would not be a problem and he would be there in a few minutes. A few minutes passed and he still was not there. Then the phone rang. I was half expecting him to say, “see yea”, but he was simply at the wrong insurance place which is a easy to do because within this one block there is about 3 insurance agencies, that just goes to show you what a rip off it all is.
It turned out to be a good thing he came because the original paperwork was filled out incorrectly so he would have had to re fill it all out again. In the end it all worked out and I had to watch my dad leave with ben to go pick it up. The first ride on my first motorcycle was going to be done by my dad.
There it was right on my driveway, my first bike. I expected it all to be golden but dad had some bad news for me. We need to do a complete overhaul on the suspension because it is just f’ed. I could not care less though I love my bike. Within 30 minutes of having it I could not let it sit so there I was on the street trying my hardest to hide my nerves. I slowly let out the clutch and…. Pop. I stalled. Tried again and I had the same outcome. I just was not getting it. Then slowly I started to get it. Then even slower I started to turn, and even slower then that I started to get comfortable.
After about 30 minutes I decided it was best for me to quit while I was ahead. And park it in its new shed before it started to pour rain again.
O yea and there were some strangely dressed kids knocking at the door that we had to give some candy to in order to make them leave.
Find Me A Washroom Oct 30 2010
We all woke up at around the same time, and Courtney and I had one thing pressing on the mind… to get home to use the washroom. When Maria offered us breakfast we kindly refused and said we must get on the road. Within 10 minutes of waking up we were both on the road dawning our surrey dinner jackets and going about half the speed we normally travel at.
That door could not come soon enough but my anal retentive cleaning nature decided to rear its head, and I came to the choice that cleaning my board was a far more pressing thing. About three scrubs on the deck into it I had to lay it down and sprint to do some damage in the washroom.
With a war scene behind me one thing was on my mind. Recover. I decided to plunk my butt down and just be lazy for a bit. That was until I phoned up ben (the owner of the motorcycle) saying that was free. Ben is a funny guy because he is all over the map, and was almost to accommodating for my crazy spur of the moment plans. I said I will be there in 25mins and he responded with ok make it 30 and I will be ok.
It was time to suit up and get my fixie on the road. This time I was a little more comfortable on it and was able to stop in a good distance instead of just white knuckling it like im on the New Jersey turnpike. Exactly 30 mins after the phone call there ben was rolling the bike onto the street.
The bike itself looked a lot better in daylight. The small nicks and scratches were less noticeable, and to be honest I was a little amazed by the fact I could ride something like that. It really was the perfect look as well. Which as much as that shouldn’t matter it does. But I knew I had to wait and think on it to make sure that this was the right choice.
When I got home I finished setting up my little shelter at the side of the house but before I got a chance to breath there was a knock at the door. It was Mark, Natasha and the kids. Austin is just an awesome nephew. He goes non stop all the time which does lead to things getting broken but I just counter that by flipping him upside down and play wrestling with him. He loves it because he does not see me much and I think even though I am 16 years his senior he can still relate to me.
This night also brought about the opportunity for me to employ my taco technique to a crowd of people. It was amazing I looked like the Port Coquitlam version of iron chef, which is a huge honour and an extremely hard title to grab. I did only do it with meat and not the fish taco because I did not want to kill anyone tonight.
That door could not come soon enough but my anal retentive cleaning nature decided to rear its head, and I came to the choice that cleaning my board was a far more pressing thing. About three scrubs on the deck into it I had to lay it down and sprint to do some damage in the washroom.
With a war scene behind me one thing was on my mind. Recover. I decided to plunk my butt down and just be lazy for a bit. That was until I phoned up ben (the owner of the motorcycle) saying that was free. Ben is a funny guy because he is all over the map, and was almost to accommodating for my crazy spur of the moment plans. I said I will be there in 25mins and he responded with ok make it 30 and I will be ok.
It was time to suit up and get my fixie on the road. This time I was a little more comfortable on it and was able to stop in a good distance instead of just white knuckling it like im on the New Jersey turnpike. Exactly 30 mins after the phone call there ben was rolling the bike onto the street.
The bike itself looked a lot better in daylight. The small nicks and scratches were less noticeable, and to be honest I was a little amazed by the fact I could ride something like that. It really was the perfect look as well. Which as much as that shouldn’t matter it does. But I knew I had to wait and think on it to make sure that this was the right choice.
When I got home I finished setting up my little shelter at the side of the house but before I got a chance to breath there was a knock at the door. It was Mark, Natasha and the kids. Austin is just an awesome nephew. He goes non stop all the time which does lead to things getting broken but I just counter that by flipping him upside down and play wrestling with him. He loves it because he does not see me much and I think even though I am 16 years his senior he can still relate to me.
This night also brought about the opportunity for me to employ my taco technique to a crowd of people. It was amazing I looked like the Port Coquitlam version of iron chef, which is a huge honour and an extremely hard title to grab. I did only do it with meat and not the fish taco because I did not want to kill anyone tonight.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Shoulder 1 Pavement 0 Oct 29 2010
Waking up in a semi strange bed is a good feeling. I can say that because I am not homeless, or promiscuous. Again another stellar intro brought to you by Evans mind recalling memories from 3 days ago at 10 at night.
When I got back home mom asked me what food I missed the most and I responded with one word “pancakes”. Now although I woke up to the smell of pancakes the next day they just were not the same. Now that I spent the night with dad I got the chance to partake in a little father son pancake ritual we have had for almost 10 years now. It’s pretty easy. Eat until you near explosion. My record of 1.5 batches of aunt jemima pancakes from when I was 11 still stands to date. It is amazing how my body works because without fail every time after eating roughly 7 pancakes I have to poo. And after said poo I always come back to a stack of three more. It is just an awesome circle.
Before long though we were back on the road because dad had to go downtown then to work. So before I knew it I was back home and trying to make plans for the night. In order to fill some time decided to go down to rocky point for a bit of closure. While traveling to port moody by skateboard I was going down one of the many steep halls around here and promptly ate tarmac. It sucked. I very quickly popped up and checked my collarbone to make sure that everything was still in one piece, and luckily this time it was.
Once at the park I just skated around then went and played a game of billiards, fallowed by sushi, and before I knew it I was getting a phone call from Courtney. Great I forgot I made plans with her. So there I was scrambling for a bud to get home so that I did not let a friend down.
I got to courts a little sweaty and running very behind, but the fact was I arrived. Courtney and I are strange because although we spent so much time apart we still finish each other’s sentences and have the exact same interests. Infact we even have the same taste in women which is strange. With both of our a.d.d.s kicking in we decided to hit the road for a late night skateboard sesh. I mean what could go wrong?
With no destination in mind we ended up at kistis house calling kristy to come over. Before we knew it it was a party. This is a rare thing for me but it was well needed. It was a little bit of a mess but in the end it was 4 friends in a basement hanging out having a good time. In many ways it was a lot like that 70’s show.
When I got back home mom asked me what food I missed the most and I responded with one word “pancakes”. Now although I woke up to the smell of pancakes the next day they just were not the same. Now that I spent the night with dad I got the chance to partake in a little father son pancake ritual we have had for almost 10 years now. It’s pretty easy. Eat until you near explosion. My record of 1.5 batches of aunt jemima pancakes from when I was 11 still stands to date. It is amazing how my body works because without fail every time after eating roughly 7 pancakes I have to poo. And after said poo I always come back to a stack of three more. It is just an awesome circle.
Before long though we were back on the road because dad had to go downtown then to work. So before I knew it I was back home and trying to make plans for the night. In order to fill some time decided to go down to rocky point for a bit of closure. While traveling to port moody by skateboard I was going down one of the many steep halls around here and promptly ate tarmac. It sucked. I very quickly popped up and checked my collarbone to make sure that everything was still in one piece, and luckily this time it was.
Once at the park I just skated around then went and played a game of billiards, fallowed by sushi, and before I knew it I was getting a phone call from Courtney. Great I forgot I made plans with her. So there I was scrambling for a bud to get home so that I did not let a friend down.
I got to courts a little sweaty and running very behind, but the fact was I arrived. Courtney and I are strange because although we spent so much time apart we still finish each other’s sentences and have the exact same interests. Infact we even have the same taste in women which is strange. With both of our a.d.d.s kicking in we decided to hit the road for a late night skateboard sesh. I mean what could go wrong?
With no destination in mind we ended up at kistis house calling kristy to come over. Before we knew it it was a party. This is a rare thing for me but it was well needed. It was a little bit of a mess but in the end it was 4 friends in a basement hanging out having a good time. In many ways it was a lot like that 70’s show.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Behind Door Number 2 Oct 28 2010
It was a slow start to the day, which was perfectly fine because the only plan I has was to go look at a blast with dad later on that day at around 5pm. Well the knock on the door came at 2pm and I was not ready. There I am in shorts and a tee shirt scrambling to get my junk together so that we were not flying blind into the depths of Langley. Surprisingly I did not forget anything, and I even remember to print off a map and the number of the guys place we were going to. Now I must admit I was a little sceptical of this deal because the bike seemed too good to be true. Adding to my suspicion was the fact that the owner lives in California, and the guy we were going to see was named sparky.
It was good to spend more then an hour with dad. It was even better to go to his house for the first time in a long time. Much like his body and my mind things had changed. The largest change came in the form of a chez lounge and a man chair instead of the two couch set up that was there before. Immediately I started grinding him about the chez, and how if you have a chez you have to start painting nudes. It is just a fact own a chez and you instantly become an internationally acclaimed painter. Dad is one of the few people I know that can put up with my dry humour at its best or worst so its nice to be able to let loose for a while.
Now what would a father and son do when they are spending the first minutes they have had together in a long time? Well look at used bikes online of course. Now my dad is a technology retarded. I know retarded is not politically correct but before I left I spent literally 2 hours with him simply teaching him how to comment on my blog. I am glad to report he is a craiglist, and youtube pro now….
Soon enough we were back on the road and making our way to Langley. It was raining and pitch black, which made it a perfect recipe for me to drive for the first time in close to 7 months in the largest car I have ever driven. I got to the bridge and that is when I said, “dad you’re taking over”. I like being small. I like being able to manoeuvre with a shoulder check that exposes more the 60% of what is behind me.
We got to the address soon enough. It was at the end of this unlighted gravel road that had multiple beware of dog’s signs. Needless to say red flags were starting to go off. Luckily in a short time a not so little shop appeared with a man standing at the door with two large dogs at his side barking away. This was sparky.
Luckily it all turned out to be legit. Sparky himself turned out to be quite the character. In this private Harley shop rested about 15 motorcycles and a dyno jet. There was only one I was focused on and it was dead centre. I was not as thrilled with it, especially after sitting on it. It just did not feel right. The foot controls felt to far forward, and everything was made of plastic. Which is fine if it is a new bike but this was not, so all the scratches are permanent and cannot be polished out. Adding to that the bike was riddled with corrosion and pain swirls. It got better. When we took the seat off we could not get it back on. We tried and tried for about 10 mins but could not make it happen. But wait there is more. When sparky fired it up it came to life with a HUGE “WOOOOMMMMPPPP”. The bike had been modified with a straight pipe exhaust that made the bike rattle like crazy. It was so loud that it gave me a headache within 5 minutes. I knew if I brought this home my mom would poop her pants.
It was nice to spend the night with dad. It was even nicer having a change of beds for a night. I was getting sick of staying in the same one for a week.
It was good to spend more then an hour with dad. It was even better to go to his house for the first time in a long time. Much like his body and my mind things had changed. The largest change came in the form of a chez lounge and a man chair instead of the two couch set up that was there before. Immediately I started grinding him about the chez, and how if you have a chez you have to start painting nudes. It is just a fact own a chez and you instantly become an internationally acclaimed painter. Dad is one of the few people I know that can put up with my dry humour at its best or worst so its nice to be able to let loose for a while.
Now what would a father and son do when they are spending the first minutes they have had together in a long time? Well look at used bikes online of course. Now my dad is a technology retarded. I know retarded is not politically correct but before I left I spent literally 2 hours with him simply teaching him how to comment on my blog. I am glad to report he is a craiglist, and youtube pro now….
Soon enough we were back on the road and making our way to Langley. It was raining and pitch black, which made it a perfect recipe for me to drive for the first time in close to 7 months in the largest car I have ever driven. I got to the bridge and that is when I said, “dad you’re taking over”. I like being small. I like being able to manoeuvre with a shoulder check that exposes more the 60% of what is behind me.
We got to the address soon enough. It was at the end of this unlighted gravel road that had multiple beware of dog’s signs. Needless to say red flags were starting to go off. Luckily in a short time a not so little shop appeared with a man standing at the door with two large dogs at his side barking away. This was sparky.
Luckily it all turned out to be legit. Sparky himself turned out to be quite the character. In this private Harley shop rested about 15 motorcycles and a dyno jet. There was only one I was focused on and it was dead centre. I was not as thrilled with it, especially after sitting on it. It just did not feel right. The foot controls felt to far forward, and everything was made of plastic. Which is fine if it is a new bike but this was not, so all the scratches are permanent and cannot be polished out. Adding to that the bike was riddled with corrosion and pain swirls. It got better. When we took the seat off we could not get it back on. We tried and tried for about 10 mins but could not make it happen. But wait there is more. When sparky fired it up it came to life with a HUGE “WOOOOMMMMPPPP”. The bike had been modified with a straight pipe exhaust that made the bike rattle like crazy. It was so loud that it gave me a headache within 5 minutes. I knew if I brought this home my mom would poop her pants.
It was nice to spend the night with dad. It was even nicer having a change of beds for a night. I was getting sick of staying in the same one for a week.
Back to Work Oct 27 2010
When I like something I don’t stop thinking about it. It becomes an obsession. This could manifest itself into a problem later on in life but for now I think I can deal with it. When I got out of the sack I immediately put on my cycling gear because I saw that it the first amazing day in a while. I also knew that I wanted to make a stop in at the Yamaha dealership in port moody just to get my nerding in for the day.
Just as I was about to walk out the door in my lime green cycling kit with my mountain bike I thought to myself “why am I taking the mountain bike”. Then my eyes caught my race bike hanging from the wall. The tires were flat, the grips dirty, no pedals in sight, and no brakes on the bars. This fixie was going to be my stead for the day. I needed to get my hands dirty from working on a bike again anyways as my touring bike still lies in a pile of pieces in the garage.
Within the first 3 pedal stokes I fell back in love with the bike. It’s so light, so low, and so comfy. It took me the entire 3 hour rid to get used to the weight, or lack there of. At first I could not even get out of the saddle to sprint. When I got onto the laugheed highway I got nice and low and started to put power into the pedals. I don’t know how fast I was going but it was fast. It was scary how much power I can put in now compared to when I left.
Almost as soon as I started to crank on the bike I had to lock up my legs to come to a skidding stop. I was so focused on the speed that I was not paying attention to the growing traffic in front of me, and the red light that was in my immediate future. Being able to lock the wheel up at speed was also a new experience because before I could not do that. Not that I want to because that rear tire is worth $70 and last time I check the track is pretty flat so I would quickly find out if I had a flat spot or not.
The first stop was at work to tell them “yea im coming back”. Rhys was kind of funny because he says to me in a dead serious manor “so you want to start tomorrow”. I didn’t know how to respond so I laughed and said no. I need some time. Luckily Rhys did as well and asked me to come back later. This worked out perfect because I wanted to go waste time at the motorcycle shop anyways.
15 minutes later I was at the motorcycle shop. This is the point where I have to voice some frustration. Why can I not get service? Eve if someone just out of pity cam up to me and asked if I was ok that would do. But here I am with multiple thousand dollars literally in my back pocket ready to buy and not one person helped. In fact I stood in front of the sales person who was having a conversation about a hot rod with another guy for 10 minutes before he said, “can I help you”. Thank god I thought to myself. After that asking the parts guys/ girl questions about the bike I was interested in was even more painful. This just made me all the happier with the service I got out in Langley at holeshot. I mean they have better staff, better selection, and a nicer location whets not to like?
Anyways after that I was back at the shop to find out my fate. Tuesday, Wednesday off. Brutal. In other words if I want to hang out with friends and have fun with them I will have to be tired as balls on the weekends. So be it you can ask for the moon, but know one said they would give it to you.
Just as I was about to walk out the door in my lime green cycling kit with my mountain bike I thought to myself “why am I taking the mountain bike”. Then my eyes caught my race bike hanging from the wall. The tires were flat, the grips dirty, no pedals in sight, and no brakes on the bars. This fixie was going to be my stead for the day. I needed to get my hands dirty from working on a bike again anyways as my touring bike still lies in a pile of pieces in the garage.
Within the first 3 pedal stokes I fell back in love with the bike. It’s so light, so low, and so comfy. It took me the entire 3 hour rid to get used to the weight, or lack there of. At first I could not even get out of the saddle to sprint. When I got onto the laugheed highway I got nice and low and started to put power into the pedals. I don’t know how fast I was going but it was fast. It was scary how much power I can put in now compared to when I left.
Almost as soon as I started to crank on the bike I had to lock up my legs to come to a skidding stop. I was so focused on the speed that I was not paying attention to the growing traffic in front of me, and the red light that was in my immediate future. Being able to lock the wheel up at speed was also a new experience because before I could not do that. Not that I want to because that rear tire is worth $70 and last time I check the track is pretty flat so I would quickly find out if I had a flat spot or not.
The first stop was at work to tell them “yea im coming back”. Rhys was kind of funny because he says to me in a dead serious manor “so you want to start tomorrow”. I didn’t know how to respond so I laughed and said no. I need some time. Luckily Rhys did as well and asked me to come back later. This worked out perfect because I wanted to go waste time at the motorcycle shop anyways.
15 minutes later I was at the motorcycle shop. This is the point where I have to voice some frustration. Why can I not get service? Eve if someone just out of pity cam up to me and asked if I was ok that would do. But here I am with multiple thousand dollars literally in my back pocket ready to buy and not one person helped. In fact I stood in front of the sales person who was having a conversation about a hot rod with another guy for 10 minutes before he said, “can I help you”. Thank god I thought to myself. After that asking the parts guys/ girl questions about the bike I was interested in was even more painful. This just made me all the happier with the service I got out in Langley at holeshot. I mean they have better staff, better selection, and a nicer location whets not to like?
Anyways after that I was back at the shop to find out my fate. Tuesday, Wednesday off. Brutal. In other words if I want to hang out with friends and have fun with them I will have to be tired as balls on the weekends. So be it you can ask for the moon, but know one said they would give it to you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
