Tuesday, April 27, 2010


Cookie was a funny man. A friend to everyone who knew him. Kind, soft spoken, well read and a great wheel builder.
He, as everyone in the bicycle business, was never paid enough for his talents and knowledge, but stuck it out for the love of the sport. Customers would come to him as they would their doctor and not only talk about bicycle problems but their life's problems as well. He would listen.
As time went on and bicycle shops closed. Cookie found himself on the street, looking for a new job. The first choice to come to mind was where everyone seemed to migrate after the closing of the 50 year old establishment, but he thought of the hussel and bussel and chose a smaller shop down the street.
More of a studio of sorts, the smaller shop dealt with the more dignified customer that was willing to play the game and pay the price. Only after that, they would get full service.
Cookies first day played out as he expected. Greeting customers and making them smile with his words of wit he was famous for.
As the day came to a close and the brooms and beers came out, Cookie was asked to put up the security grates that guarded the store from inner city crime.
Not what he was expecting, Cookie considered the job for a younger staff member. He did the chore and then quit. Not just for the day, but for good.
The next day he was back on the street again looking. This time the first shop that had come to mind became more of a serious consideration and where he went to next. His fame landed him the job instantly and was put right to work.
Things went as expected, again, greeting customers and making them smile as at the last two shops and the past 20 years of his life.
Again as the day came to a close and the brooms and the beers made there arrival and swept out the last customers of the day, Cookie was again, asked to pull the grates.
Pissed, The job seemed to be following him. He knew it was for a younger staff member, but wrote it off as something that the new guy does and took on the task.
With keys and pole in hand, Cookie went to the end of the shop to start the job. With the first pull, Cookie ripped the whole grate box and frame off the wall.
The whole grate and box at the top of the frame where the roll of grate sat while up weighed over 700 lbs. Enough weight to crush a man.
Fortunately for Cookie, he ducked in time for the frame and the box to come down and hit the roof of a parked car on the street parallel to the shops window.
From inside the store, we thought Cookie had been killed, but when we ran out, he was crawling from under the grate that the parked car had saved him from.
White as a sheet, he was told to go get a beer, and we would take over.
With ladders and heavy duty zip ties we put the grate and frame back up and locked it for the night.
Although Cookie was unscaved, the car was badly hit. Both the front and back window were broken. The car's roof had a 3" deep dent that ran from the front to the back.
Cookie never volunteered or was asked to pull the grates again. The car had in fact saved his life.
To this day, the story remains as "One from the bike shop", and to this day, A story the owner of the car was never told.


  1. Come on now, There has to be some kind os a comment about this story.

    How about, I like it,
    Thats a lie.

    Where's Cookie today?

    or,, Im the owner of the car and after all these years, now I know how my roof got dented!

  2. Must run in the family because I do want to know what became of Cookie. As for lies, I find the Christmas Red Bike story suspect...


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