When I paid for my bike, 11 whole days ago, one of the other salesmen (I know only that it was not my salesman, Eric) in the bike shop mentioned that they would probably have to wait until they had other items to order before they would order my bike. In my purple haze of excitement, I forgot about this. Or maybe I hoped they would see how special I am and how excited about it I was and order it, without waiting, anyway. You can see how that worked out, can't you.
This morning it was explained to me quite nicely by James, yet another bike shop employee with whom I am now intimately acquainted (when I pretended to whine, "but I want my bike now!," James laughed, as I wished for him to do, so that he would not think I was a) crazy, or b) demanding and difficult. I want these guys to love me. I want them to GET ME MY BIKE. Following my lame comedy cues makes us "intimate," and hopefully endears me to him). Obviously these people are immune to my charms, whatever they are. Or maybe I need new charms.
Anyway, apparently waiting a couple of days and piggybacking some other customer's order on mine makes the whole thing faster and cheaper this way. Cheaper and faster for whom, I wonder? Certainly not me.
I'm not really sure what they meant by "faster." Sure, maybe if you consider that they had the exact bike I wanted at their store in the valley, and if I had decided to, I don't know, walk there to pick it up, barring a heart attack on the ride home, I would have a bike sooner than I do now, which is not soon at all, because my bike is still NOT MINE YET.
(Google maps says it would take the average person 15 hours to do this walk: it is 49.7 miles from their store in the valley to my house in Long Beach. If I took the 405, I could ride that distance in about 4.2 miles or so, if there was no traffic? Hey, I might be new to cycling, but that sounds doable, no? What? No?)
Anyway, I am going to sit my ass down and continue to wait. I am not patient, however. Oh, no. You should know by now not to expect patience from a woman like me.
(I don't know what that means, either: "a woman like me." Maybe one of you can figure it out for me. On second thought -)
...
Came home from work. Did a few necessary things, including petting Franny and Puma (Dora ran away from me, as usual). Started a load of laundry. Came in, saw the answering machine blinking. "Rocco" (surely that isn't his real name?) from the bike store called - my bike is ready for pick up. Where do you think I will be tomorrow night? Fighting the traffic to and from the bike store. One of those trips? I will have a bike in my trunk.
Woo-hoo!
No comments:
Post a Comment