4pm and I was kitted out in spandex, ready for the commute-race home, when I saw him about to enter the shop. Looking not quite homeless, but a well-weathered 40-something, and drunk. Always drunk.
Luckily Brian took the bull by the horns, and asked the man what he needed. I didn't need to ask, I already knew he was trying to sell a bike. Drunk Guy usually comes in trying to sell bikes or parts, which is generally met with a negative response as he is a slightly sketchy even for a drunk guy. After Drunk Guy mumbled/slurred something inaudibly, and Brian politely asked him to repeat himself, he motioned outside to the cheap bike that he was trying to hock and ennunciated well enough that Brian got his drift.
Now, Brian is in a position at the shop that is probably best described as a whipping-boy/scape-goat hybrid, so it was not entirely surprising to me that, likely out of a sense of his own self-preservation, he showed Drunk Guy a lot of patience and courtesy in explaining that we don't usually buy bikes, but take them in as trades toward new product. This did not satisfy Drunk Guy, even though the same thing has probably been explained to him a dozen times in our store. And any outcome that did not involve currency that could be quickly converted into a few king-cans of Maximum Ice could not be considered satisfactory, so he made one final hail-mary attempt:
"Make me an offer I can't refuse..."
At this point I could not help but interject.
"How about this: You leave the store, and don't try to sell us any more bikes."
And with a little half-smile that would indicate either an understanding of the absurdity of his statement and my response, or maybe just a blood alcohol level twice the legal limit, he said "That's pretty good" and walked out the door.