Customer service isn't dead

I just have to say that in this dreadful economy, when more and more people are surly and grumpy about dealing with customers (and why is that anyway?), I have discovered a wonderful place that I wish I could patronize more often. Maybe if I ever work up to that triathlon I keep threatening, I can spend loads of money there. It's Bicycles East and I can't rave about them enough. First I dragged in T.'s little kid bike when the chain kept coming off. They fixed it for me free of charge. This was not a bike they sold me either. This was a hand-me-down from his brother bought years ago in Texas. I was impressed enough with that instance to go there to buy R. a bike when she asked for a new one for her birthday. They threw in a kickstand for her bike free and installed it free as well.

When W. wanted a new bike, I wanted to go there again but his little pea-pickin' heart was set on a certain brand of bike that they don't carry but is apparently the neighborhood bike to have. So off to Dick's we went. Fast forward to last week when, in typical 12 year old boy fashion, he broke the bike. The entire back wheel was barely hanging onto the bike. Did I get the extended warranty at Dick's? No siree bob, I did not. So off to Bicycles East I went, grumbling to myself all the way about the projected cost of repairing this rather newish bike.

I pushed the bike into the repair shop and stood by as the guys in there nodded knowledgeably at my response to what happened (said response was along the lines of: "My 12 year old son happened."). They fiddled with the gears, reattached the back wheel, and even showed me how to do it if it happened again. All this for no charge again. On yet another bike I didn't purchase there. Who says customer service is dead?

I fully plan to drag T.'s latest hand-me-down bike (also not purchased there--although as it was a hand-me-down from a friend to W. I have less than zero idea where it was originally purchased) in there tomorrow and pay these good men to replace the bald and scary tires ("What happened to these tires?" "A friend's son, then my two sons and the fun of braking hard and leaving streaks of black rubber behind you happened to them."). Maybe they'll even tighten the seat for T. while they're at it. And one day, when I'm ready to buy a good bike, I will heading right to them. Because they totally rock.