D'oh!

Many years ago I took a communications class that taught me something I have never forgotten. You can often learn more about a person from the questions they ask you than from the responses they give to your questions. The reason is that answers are a response to a specific stimulus; the questions they ask are self-generated glimpses into the way they are thinking.

So, if you ask a person "How are you today?" and their answer is "Great!" the only thing you can really tell is that they heard your question and that they are currently either feeling "great" or that they are disinclined to complain to you about how their day is going.

On the other hand, when I am chatting with someone and they ask me how my mom is, it tells me that they either do not know me very well or do not care for me enough to have remembered when I told them that my mother was killed in a traffic accident nearly thirty years ago.

I bring-up this whole psychobabble mess because of a recent conversation that I had in a shoppe here in the area. I was in the next town down the Thames from my home, (the ancient and royal borough of) Kingston Upon Thames. My bicycle needed some repair work and new tires so I had walked it down to Kingston to have it serviced at a bike shop that was open late on Friday afternoons.

Normally, I would have taken it to the bike shoppe in the next village south of me, Paul Cycles in Long Ditton. I love this shoppe! It reminds me of the bike shop my Uncle Gene used to run in Waite Park, Minnesota when I was a kid. The shoppe is a confusion of bikes in all colors, sizes and styles, crammed into a converted villa on a side street. Paul always greets me with surprise and asks how I am, how is Saga, how is my trip going.

Paul has built this relationship with me over the past year because he has serviced my bicycles since I was first lent one by my friends in Molesey. He told me the first time that I had it serviced that investing in a good newer bike would be a better investment if I was going to be using the bike extensively than putting a lot of money into the upkeep of the old bike I was lent. (The "loaner" bike was a good bike, but not up to constant and extensive use. I do not herein mean to cast aspersions on the bike, the loan of the bike, or the friends who lent it to me! It was a wonderful gesture and I was and am extremely grateful to my friends for their kind gesture.)

The point is that every time my trip got extended and I ended-up in Paul's shoppe for more parts, accessories or service, he showed his interest by asking "How long this time?" or "Why are you not just moved here?" He showed me thereby that he at least was interested enough in me as a client and a person to remember that I was here on what was supposed to be a short trip that kept being extended. The only reason I would not have taken my bike to Paul this time is that Paul always takes the first three weeks of the year off to go to visit his family in Thailand. If I could have waited, I would have, but I needed my bike serviced. I shredded my tire on Christmas week.

This brings me back to the point of my story. In the shoppe in Kingston, (we'll withhold the name of the shoppe to protect it…) I was asked a question that was so dumb that it showed that they were more interested in my wallet than in me. That's fine! They're there, after all to make money, but a little interest in the customer is, perhaps, a good thing, guys!

The question came about as I was adding things to my basket while they were mounting my new tires and tubes on the bike. Apart from the tires and tubes, I wanted to get a set of tire irons and a spare tube (so I could change my own flat the next time I had one), I also mentioned that I needed a bottle of Bike wash because my bike gets really caked with mud and goop as I am riding the tow path along the Thames. He said that he rode the tow path himself and we chatted briefly about the trials and tribulations of riding around the area.

When I picked-up a bottle of chain lube (they had two, neither was a brand I with which I was familiar) and asked for his opinion of them. As I stood there, the water still dripping off my rain suit, the larger drops hitting the window audibly, the recent conversation of the mud in the streets still echoing in the building, the fice-litre bottle of bike wash for mud and road grime clearly visible in my basket, he asked me one of those questions that show he was not really a party to any of these things. At least, he wasn’t mentally a part of it!

"What conditions do you normally ride in?" he asked in a completely serious manner.

I cocked my head to the side.

"Do you normally ride in wet or dry conditions?" He continued, seeing my confusion.

I looked over my shoulder at the rain outside the window, the water dripping off my hair onto the floor. With complete incredulity I responded "I live in Thames Ditton. I ride in Surrey! It's Winter!"

"Oh! Right." He said realizing (I hope) how stupid a question it was. He then added, sheepishly, "You'll want this one for wet and muddy conditions."

To be fair, I have a strange accent. He may have assumed that I had come all the way to the United Kingdom, to London, and found my way to Kingston to then find his shoppe, buy bicycle tires for my bike at twice what they would have cost me in the US just to head back to the states immediately. Or perhaps he was just not paying attention. Either way, it was an interesting conversation.

I hope wherever you are today, you have interesting conversations with those around you!

Don Bergquist - 10 January 2007 - Thames Ditton, Surrey, UK