My one preserving beacon of hope for living in this friendless and logistically-complicated state was my shiny emerald-green Schwinn Suburban. I bought it from a kindly old lady on my first day in CT, and dropped it off at a local bike store to be serviced. Never have I dealt with a cuter or less friendly attendant
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(Seriously though, this is basically my plan of attack with people who probably have to put up with a lot of shit from customers, and are likely to respond favorably to someone who treats them with understanding and like... well, a human being.)
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