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Monday, May 17, 2004
[Hello?]
Took my bike for a spin earlier. Did something silly. The hind leg of the bike wouldn't go up, and I kicked it with all my might. Turns out, my Dad locked it there to stablise it. In the end, the leg broke cause I kicked it too hard.
So I made my way to BP Plaza to get a new leg. Here's where the fun starts...
The bike shop there was just this silly little corner below the escalator. When I brought my bike there, there's this chinese guy on the phone, and a malay guy doing stock check. The chinese guy, who's the boss, saw me first and got the malay guy's attention. He said to the malay guy, "we don't do servicing for outside bikes." The malay guy promptly walk to me and repeated the same thing.
What the fuck?
I've not said one word, and that's how they do business? Fuck them, if I had a choice, I'd have pushed my bike out of there and went somewhere else to get the hind leg. Unfortunately, "somewhere else" would be all the way to CCK. And that's just too far.
I got the leg, and instead of accepting payment, the malay guy seemed hell bent on finding the hind leg in the catalog first and then marking another one as sold. What an ass! I waited and waited till I was ready to blow and I just told him if I could just pay first. And he can take his receipt and shove it.
I'm never ever patronizing that so-called "shop" ever again.
^^^ by Locksley @ 1:29 PM.
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