I thought I'd have a cast-iron blog post today for you. The other half managed to get one of the front brake pads off the bike this morning and we took it down to the bike shop (the one where they told me they couldn't fix my bike last time because it was 'too complicated' to fix older bikes) to see if they had any replacements. I was fairly confident that the same tooth-sucking, head-shaking, why-don't-you-just-buy-a-new-one song and dance act would be repeated and I could write a wonderful rant about how it's impossible to get anything repaired these days, global warming, throwaway society, blah blah blah. Instead it went like this:
Me: I don't suppose you sell brake pads like this any more do you?
Nice Young Man in Lycra: Certainly.
It was five quid. Which is only slightly more than a new light bracket, as it happens. So now I'm going to have to work out how to fit the thing or, more likely, stand outside in the rain* holding spanners while the other half fits them for me.
Curiously enough, my laptop died a death over Christmas and I headed out to the sales to get a new one. The conversation went a little like this:
Me: I need a new laptop, my old one died
Nice Young Man in Suit: Why don't you just get it fixed?
Just what is the modern world coming to these days? And how's a girl supposed to put a proper rant together under these sorts of conditions? Coming up soon on Disgruntled Commuter: No Trains Cancelled in Living Memory, the Peak Hours Undercrowding Scandal, Tourists seen Hurrying through Streets of London and Man Gives up Seat to Pregnant Woman Shock.
* The drought, apparently, is still on.
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