{Photo by Andrew.}
The man storms into 1443 Hunter Street brandishing a Marzocchi fork. He stomps petulantly across the front of the shop and oscillates in place, waiting impatiently for me to finish on the phone. I glance sideways at the supporting cast in my pending tragedy. Rudy has his back turned to me rebuilding an old TALAS fork. Pope Jimmy is up to his elbows in a bucket of oil rebuilding a pile of DT Swiss shocks. Everything’s coming up Mandrew.
I put down the phone and inquire as to how we can best help the gentleman. He needs his Marzocchi fork serviced now. For the weekend. It’s Friday. This is an issue for a couple of reasons. First off, we’re booking quite a few days out and we don’t bump folks. Second, we don’t service any Marzocchi products.
There’s, as it turns out, an easy remedy for his rampage. The Marzocchi fork is current and they have a dedicated service centre a few blocks away on Rupert Street that’s run by a couple of truly sweet gents – Alex and Naz. They’re backed up as well – ’tis the silly season – but he’ll get well sorted there so I politely explain we don’t service the brand and point him in their direction punctuated with my usual cheeky footnote: “Be certain to ask Naz what his mom made him for lunch today – he loves that.”
My new friend isn’t in a laughing mood. As it turns out he has just come from Marzocchi where they were less than helpful in getting his fork sorted within his expedited timeline. Don’t they know that people want to ride? Have they no drive to work all hours of the day for some extra shillings in the busy season? He stares me down and says ~:
“Naz suggested I take up fishing or hang out with my kids.“
Did I just hear Jimmy snort? I can’t blame him, it’s all I can do to keep from laughing. I’ve seen Naz contort himself like three members of the Cirque Du Soleil riding a single unicycle down Ned’s to help folks out when he can but this gentleman is obviously a special case. A special, special case.
The best I can offer is from my own experience. If you need to ride, you need to own more than one bike. And when you ride a lot, you need to plan for maintenance. It falls on deaf ears. He’s as pissed at me as he is at Naz. More so maybe.
As I’m back in the shop, regaled with the sad tales of skiers and mountain bikers alike with a naked, sometimes whingey & sometimes furious, entitlement to be bailed out for their poor planning I’m regularly reminded of the greatest of the bicycle emergencies. I bite my tongue and hide a smile behind my mask as I fight every urge to channel everyone’s favourite Italian fork tech.
Have you considered taking up knitting or hanging out with your kids?