Three p.m. Two and a half hours to closing time and by this hour it's highly unlikely that anyone will bring anything interesting to us. We've used up the jobs we had on hand. The boss is understandably a bit grouchy, so we don't want to look unacceptably idle as we brainstorm about things the business can do with its future or things we can do with our future if the business proves not to have one. Am I serious? Time will tell. But such is the precarious nature of life.
Bike repairs wander in one or two at a time. My work stand is wedged into the rack of rental skis.
We rang the dinner bell for some off-season repairs. Maybe that will fill the queue. And if Murphy still has any clout with the winter precipitation, an influx of bikes to fix will surely trigger a major snowstorm and a flood of pent-up ski renters. So, either way, problem solved.
This weather does make the MTB commuter look more and more tempting. Again, this presents an opportunity for winter weather to make a mockery of that investment. That's okay, so far I'm not planning to make it. But it's harder not to think about it.
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