I’m standing in front of the shop, it’s 11 30am (opens at 10am). No one inside, a sign says that I have to knock if there’s no one at the desk. I do.
I wait a couple of minutes wondering if I should knock harder. A dude shows up behind me and looks like he wants to enter the shop. I recognize the shop owner and say hi. I start to explain my bike brake problem and he’s all like “oh yeah, that’s not the good cable” and I’m all like “yeah, this bike stuff is confusing, so many standards” and he’s going all “meh, not really” on me. Bitch.
“how much does it cost?”
“We’re at 50 euros an hour and it’s probably 15 minutes of work.”
“OK so I leave my bike to you and come back later today?”
“No, keep your bike and come back this afternoon.”
“??? OK, what time?”
“After 3pm.”
“??? OK, thanks.”
I don’t fucking understand how this shop is surviving. I don’t get France. Fifteen minutes of work he could have done with me, chatting and my day would have been different, the future would have been bright.
Of course I’d rather do it my fucking self with services like that, no wonder I dived into independence so hard.
It’s things like this.