I had a nice young college girl living in a condo that I manage. And she had a purple Huffy. And everytime she went to a certain bike-shop, she would invariably come knocking on my door. The last time she had brought her Huffy in for a new tube & tire. And this bike-shop "adjusted" her brakes so they were grabbing her rim - making it difficult to turn. She knew nothing about bicycles and couldn't discern what the problem was and would I try to fix it? I went over to her unit with a couple of tools. My price was she got to watch and learn how to do things herself. The bike-shop had obviously figured she was an easy mark and while fixing one thing - they screwed something else up so she'd be back and they could break something else. They must have wondered why she didn't keep coming back. I was ready to send them a bill.

As I positioned the brake-cable to it's proper position and centered the adjusting-wheel, I told her what they had been doing to her bike, and that it's extremely unlikely these things were accidental. She told me she had ridden a friend of her's bicycle and why was it so light and easy to pedal? I took off the gloves and told her the truth about her purple sack of concrete-mix. And I suggested she never set foot in the bike-shop she had been using. Ever. She got herself a new bike and she didn't have to beg me to fix it. She had gotten herself a decent Trek.

A week later she called me on the phone. "Can you install my cable-TV box and a VCR on my new TV set." Bump, bump, bump. Down the walkway I went. With more tools in tow.