Bent Words

Bent Words

April 02, 2010

Work schmerk.

Why did I think this was a good idea? Well, money, for one but, man! my feet hurt. Like, I wish they weren't attached to rest of me, hurt. Like, who invented standing, hurt. Like, why haven't we invented little hovercraft shoes yet, hurt.

Still it's always good to be back.

I could barely sleep the night before with visions of nearly forgotten part numbers dancing in my head. 15410-MFJ-D01 Honda oil filters. 94109-12000 or 14000 Honda crush washers. 08C35-A... Honda oil. 99950-06060 Suzuki Contact Cleaner. Michelin Pilot Powers. Dunlop Qualifiers. Midnight rolled on by and I was just pissed I couldn't remember the part number for valve stems. Lame.

Other than the couch, giant TV and video game console in the middle of the showroom, the motorcycle shop hasn't changed. Well, I guess you could say there's an entirely new sales staff but that really isn't new. The turn around rate is terrible. There's always some new guy floating around every month or so. The trick is to not bother about names. Hence the reason I have increased my overall use of the moniker "Dude." It covers all bases.

"Dude. You have a call on line 2."

Even if it's not for him, he's more likely to know his fellow co-workers names than I am. Plus I'm not a receptionist.

So, on my first day back in seven months, I somehow managed to hit the ground runnin'. Receiving, stocking, inventory, returns, call backs, parts to service... golden. By day two I was able to track the fast moving parts and make sure we actually had an adequate inventory. Spark plugs, air filters, batteries, tires, etc. I had to do a double take on the oil filters though. There were only twenty in stock. I've sold that many less five to my service guys in one day -- what are we gonna do if we actually run out of filters?! So I pushed 50 through to the Honda order. I was gently reprimanded for this because what do I know about ordering? Uhhhh, it's kinda like knowing you need a key to start your car if you're not ghetto fabulous -- if you don't have one, you're fucked. Same thing here. No filters, no oil changes. And right now, it's 80 degrees outside and everyone wants their oil changed.

Besides, it's not like oil filters go bad. They won't grow mold. They'll sell.

Marc, the lead tech, overheard and told me not to listen to my manager. And that's all it took. I just needed one person to side with me to make my disregard for authoritative management justifiable.

"Laura, I'm so glad you're back."

Thank you, Marc.


I helped push in units for sales and service the past few nights. As usual. While driving in a couple quads and a few bikes, cutting off the slow guy on the outside in front of me riding a sport quad, one of the Dudes yelled, "Hey! Slow down!"

I sped up.

You will not tell me what to do.

Not if you want me to help in the future anyhow.

(That's okay, Dude, you'll learn.)


Today we were busy. I helped a few people out at the counter and on the floor. While I was on the floor and heading back to the counter, a customer walked up to Steve, the general manager, and asked if we rented motorcycles.

"No, sorry, we don't rent bikes here," explained Steve.

"Oh, I was just asking because one of your bikes says 'Rental' on it," responded the customer.

Steve looked over at me and I looked over at him and shrugged. I thought maybe it was a trick, that someone had actually put a sign on one of our bikes, so I walked outside with Steve and the customer to check out what the story was.

The customer pointed to a dirt bike. More specifically, to the handlebars of the dirt bike.

Yeah, Renthal.

I laughed so hard I had to ground myself after telling the story to the guys back at the counter.


Written at 9:41 p.m.