And Worth It, Too

A young man leaned his bicycle against the glass, came in and asked if he could borrow some wrenches to put on a new seat he had got somewhere else.

I'm in the shop with two customers, plus him.

I don't loan tools.

Well, could you put it on for me?

$5 installation.

Well, do you have any tools?

The other customers are smirking at each other now.

Sure, I have this allen wrench set for $8.99. You can use it to install your saddle and do a lot of other services to your bicycle.

He takes the (new, packaged, priced) tool and starts working on his seatpost, right there in front of us.

I've felt some sort of tension in this transaction, but I've turned dutifully to the register and rung up a sale, Nine dollars and sixty-four cents, please.

I just wanted to use this tool. I don't have any money.

Our eyes meet. The idiot is lying. And I have his number.

I told you, I don't loan tools, and I sure as HECK won't loan a brand-new tool to you just so you can avoid buying either it or my efforts to do what you can't! What do you think is going on here? Do I look like a CHARITY? Does the sign say PAUL'S FREE CO-OP? How about a complimentary LARABAR and ESPRESSO with your service today?!

RRRRGGGH!

And now he's not only caught, but tried, sentenced and hung.

He can't get his head quite low enough as he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a twenty, then takes his change and receipt and shambles out.

(note: this twenty-dollar-bill was wadded up in his pocket, like he'd grabbed it on the way out of the house this morning like every morning, perhaps. He didn't have to rifle all his pockets and backpack, he knew that he had it and he knew where it was. Maybe mom won't miss it! Of course if he really was broke, like he said, he wouldn't have that twenty at all, or he would have it carefully folded and squirrelled away out of reach.)

Bastard left the old seat on my sidewalk.