projectil3
Life in the retail adrenaline business.Archive for industry
somebody else’s bike
Elsie, the friendly bovine Yamaha
This week’s act of simple, selfless, charity involves riding somebody else’s bike. You would be correct in assuming that an employee of a bike shop gets to ride many bikes, belonging to a great many people, all the time. Where I work, the Service writer, the mechanics (obviously), and sometimes even the Parts manager–due to his exalted status as an absolute loon on an ATV–all end up riding bikes that are not their own. As the ringleader–try as I may to avoid it–I get to ride the most. I don’t know why. I look responsible, probably, and people figure that if something goes awry, I will just get them another bike. Thank god we’ve yet to put that one to the test. Read the rest of this entry »
last day of the month…
…means that if you REALLY wanted to buy a bike you should’ve been at a dealership somewhere taunting them with your credit card today! When I die and am reincarnated as a real person (ie. one who does not work in the motorcycle business) I hope I remember how incredibly desperate the last day of the month can be for people in dealerships. read on?
someone had the bright idea,
I have always believed that no matter where we work, every day we all swim in a fairly common Sea of Absurdity: one particular job is no more or less subject to episodic oddity than any other. I’ve had lots of jobs, in many industries, over quite a few years. My perspective on this, I thought, was fairly solid. I could not have been more horribly wrong. I had never worked in the Motorcycle business, and more importantly, I had never worked in “retail.” Much of what I encounter everyday IS notable! or funny. or sick.
What follows here is not a chronicle of my descent into the sordid, bizarre, testosterone-steeped world of bikes–I would never bore you with that. No, my simple mission here (the result of someones bright idea) is to share the special brand of lunacy that surrounds life around motorcycles and motorcyclists.
If you already ride, have ridden, or were/are close to someone who does, you already know what makes the experience so incredible, and when pressed, would admit that defining exactly why is not a very easy task. It would be a definition that might leave a casual observer either amused and impressed by your enthusiasm, or perhaps wondering about how a gibbering idiot like you manages in traffic. Imagine then what happens when “the Marketing Department” needs to define something as ineffable as the pleasure of riding, in order to SELL something. Things get ugly, people get hurt.
I’m often struck dumb with amazement at the utter stupidity that passes for knowledge in this industry, and how willingly the average idiot accepts it. I am such an idiot, and I know. I have a dream job in this business, running a franchised dealership in a part of the world where you can ride year-round. I love motorcycles, and the people that ride them. I should be the happiest guy on the planet. And I would be…if I could just get some of this excess cargo off my chest! So for now, that is the general direction we’ll head in.
This is my promise: No matter how hard I need to sink my fangs into the hand that feeds me, I will tell the truth.
