Metzger Bicycle Shop, Detroit City Gas Co, circa 1912. Photo: Detroit Publishing Company
There was a time when I held down ‘real jobs’. Jobs with (a little) stress, with (some) responsibility, but without soul. And while dealing with the great unwashed never held much appeal, I always envied the guys who worked at my preferred LBS. They seemingly had it all–an endless supply of cheap bikes and parts, hanging out and shooting the breeze with other riders, and getting the heads-up on the latest and greatest developments and industry gossip. It was the epitome of the dream job for a bike rider.
They weren’t just the guys who fixed my bikes and sold me parts at mates’ rates; they also became my friends outside of the shop environment. We’d go to the pub, to parties, and to see bands. We had more in common than the obvious bike factor.
One of the guys had started out as a shop rat straight out of school, then eventually branched out and started his own shop with another riding mate. While I was spending my nights getting trashed and playing in a punk band, my empty daytime would be spent sitting around in the workshop, swapping tales from the road and picking up some tips from the mechanics on how to tweak my bikes. When anyone was sick or had to go away for some reason or another, I’d be asked to fill in. It was almost a real job, but one that was just as much fun as jumping around on stage at night.
With business starting to boom, necessitating a move to larger premises, I was offered a full-time position. Of course I took the opportunity. After all, I was always spending my paltry band earnings on bike bits anyway. The more successful the shop became, the more time the boss would spend away from it, buying expensive clothes, driving his fast car and chasing even faster women. His business partner must have seen the writing on the wall, and promptly sold his share.
The brother of the now sole owner was recruited to look after the financial side of things, while me and the mechanic looked after the sales and service sides. Now, the brother, being an ex-used car salesman, had the gift of the gab. But he didn’t know a lot about bikes, and not much more about business as it turned out. Most mornings he’d turn up to work looking dishevelled, reeking of cigarettes and booze, complaining of another hangover. He’d gruffly send one of the BMX groms, who hung out in the workshop, down to the takeaway to get him a bacon and egg roll and a Coke. “Make sure the egg’s not runny,” he’d always bark at them. When the roll would inevitably contain a less-than-firm egg, the groms would hastily make their exit under a hail of abuse. One of the part-timers would gladly retrieve the discarded mess from the bin and scoff it down. The mechanic and I would get much entertainment from this.
By early afternoon, the hangover would be too much for him (and us) to endure, and the lure of the pub and its poker machines would be even greater to resist. We’d offer our helpful advice, encouraging him to take a few bucks from the till and go and enjoy the afternoon. His arm was easy to twist. We’d then be free to get the repairs done, play some music we actually liked and ride the scooters around on the concrete floor, honing our tricks and seeing who could wheelie the furthest and do the longest skids.
Thursdays were late trading nights, and usually they were pretty quiet, especially in winter. Left to our own devices, we’d invite mates and girlfriends around, grab a 6-pack or two, and have a little party before hitting the pub after we shut. The empty bottles littering the workshop combined with the aggressive music blaring probably scared any customers that ventured in, but we were usually too baked to notice, or care.
Meanwhile, the boss’s car was becoming way more pimped, his hair was falling out due to constant trips to the salon (and from the stress of his failing business, no doubt), and suppliers were reluctant to supply because they weren’t getting paid. We still were, but increasingly in cash, which was likely so they could avoid paying tax on our wages.
Not surprisingly, the shop went under only a few years after its inception, with the brothers returning to the used car game, never to be seen again in the bike industry. But looking back at those memories, I know that they were some of the best years of my working life, even if it was obvious our days were numbered and we’d soon be looking for alternative employment.
Today, the LBS is a dying breed, and only when it’s finally extinct will we realise that we helped kill something very special. I hope it doesn’t come to that, because the best memories aren’t going to come from hitting ‘Add To Cart’.
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@Ccos
Nice! Someone buy this man a beer.
@Harminator
This.
I'm not a big fan of the entirety of Rule #58.
I buy most of my bike stuff online - the price difference here is Australia is too crazy to ignore. $15 vs $60 for armwarmers? Forget that...
OTOH, Rule #58 does get this right: "Going into your local shop, asking myriad inane questions, tying up the staff's time, then going online to buy is akin to sleeping with your best friend's wife, then having a beer with him after."
There is at least one "bike shop" here that carries no stock at all, and specialises in fitting parts bought online (although I think they will order things for you if you like).
There's another that has an attached (and pretty good!) cafe.
One thing that surprises me is how few shops advertise and run shop rides. It seems this would be an easy way to build up loyalty to the store.
One shop used to run one (started nearly 20 years ago), then merged and unmerged with another shop (aka "shit-went-down"). The ride still runs from the old place, but the new shop sponsors a team, and the manager basically ignores all the regulars and only talks to his team riders. Used to be 3-4 groups of 20 riders each, but now it's down to 2-3 groups, often with less than 10 in each one.
The original owner has a ride going from his new place, but that is pretty small still.
LBS for the internet? Not sure it's a fair trade (stop cringing, puns are awesome), but I can live with it. I know what you mean though; I used to work at the local video store.
Great article Brett. My LBS has had to switch to doing repairs and spares only, as he could not compete against the likes of Wiggle and Chain Reaction etc on their heavily discounted bikes. It was a canny decision by him, as it meant he could free up more space for repairs, and have lower over heads. We still have the likes of Halfords in the UK selling BSO's and there will alwys be an LBS to pick up the pieces afterwards!
Yeah nah bike shops aren't going anywhere. The great unwashed are always going to need to be separated from their money, with casual insults thrown in to boot. And, for a proportion of them, the more cash they're divorced from, and the greater the calibre of the insults, the more they like it and the more they spend.
Cyclists are quite frequently fucking retarded.
@minion
I think part of the differentiation is the L in LBS with the emphasis on Local - specifically not a large chain. Increasingly it is LCBS vs LBS making it hard for the true independent to survive. My LBS offers discounts to members of the local club so net is close enough to internet pricing for me to be happy to pay the difference for the service. That latter point is really what is endemic in life these days that folk are no longer prepared to pay for service but then complain when it is gone. Linked to this of course is waiting for delivery of non stock items vs just hitting checkout with next day delivery on the PC.
My wistful dream is to open a cycling/sports cafe (coffee/cake/TV) and host a bike/service shop. Though reality is probably that a cafe is as hard work as running a bike shop and location would be everything.
@Teocalli Yeah the shop I work in at the moment is like that, we're moving into a new store that opens onto a shared space with the cafe next door, the shop has been in its current spot for over 20 years. Also, the owners are happy for customers to buy online and then have us fit it up, because they realize that refusing to do so would be pissing in the proverbial (you can't deny the economic rationality of buying online, especially with Shimano's 2 tiered pricing). There is no denying that the lbs, or the successful lbs, these days is very closely related to a large brand (exclusively carrying one or two brands, special dealer pricing and participation in promotions) which helps them ride out the down times, but means they lose some of their freedom of operation.
I'd also note that the gap between what the LBS is charging for parts, and the prices available online, is shrinking, which is interesting.
Greta piece that touches on many points. I am always telling my students about the joys of stress free early life jobs which incorporate something you enjoy. Mine were beach cleaning and gardening - plenty of time outdoors, could surf when the waves were on and the freedom to drive a truck anywhere I wanted!! I have a dream of opening a coffee/book/bike/record shop where like minded people can just hang out but as your piece suggests I am not sure it would make much money but it would be a cool place to work/own.
I have two LBS at different parts of the town I live - one is well stocked but run by two ex-motor cycle salesmen and the other is less well stocked but run by cyclists - I tend to split my time and money between both
The one thing online doesn't have is that rubber tire smell that I love.
@click here for more not sure what your point is... Maybe the irony that this site has an online store albeit with very limited selection, yet encourages adherence to Rule 58?
I prefer online shopping in general (it bears going to a big box store any day), but feel troubled by it overall because of its implications for jobs and smaller operations like the LBS.