A store stocking expensive (but not worthy) equipment, with unattentive staff.
I am new to Boston. I have been riding recreationally in triathlons and other races for approximately three years now, I also commute to work. I have seen a fair few bike shops. I was looking for a new lock-- my friend damaged my old one-- as well as a new, more robust helmet for commuting, and possibly new pedals as mine are beginning to seize up after so many rings around the rosie.
I went into Landry's two hours before close on a weekday. I was happy to find a place to hang my bike at the front of the store, near the doors. However, it also made me nervous because my bike was about three steps off the street, the glass doors at the entrance putting my sweet Henrietta's curves on showcase. Threat level orange, my dudes.
On my first pass, I was immediately struck by the size of the showroom, and how little stock they actually carried. Locks are a matter of opinion; however, in mine, Landry's carried about 6 of the most subpar lock options known to humankind, and one which was good but unsuitable for my needs. A bike store that sells bike locks that are barely childproof is no friend to me and Henrietta. They also sold literally 16 of the exact same helmet. Their idea of a helmet showcase is like a swedish cycling nightmare-- one million of the exact same helmet arranged on a wall, all slightly different sizes. One at the bottom was a different color-- racing green-- suggesting something morose about the author in a word that doesn't quite translate into English.
There were 4 visible employees on the floor, and 2 customers. I waited to be spoken with for five minutes or so, but no employee asked me what I might be looking for. I looked directly at two of them with no response. I walked up the stairs looking for more equipment to find that it was an employees-only area with bike storage. At last, an employee came to inform me that the area was "for employees only."
I asked her if she would like to help me spend a lot of money or if she was busy, which in retrospect was a dick move. As a Canadian I sometimes allow myself to enjoy moonlighting as one of my southern compatriots by painting my language in abrupt and brash tones. It is doubly ironic given the despicable state of my country's dollar, but she doesn't know that-- truly a millenial wet dream. She smiled and told me she was speaking with another customer about bikes. I don't know if it was intentionally patronizing but certainly seemed so. We are in a **cking bike store, after all. She asked what it was I was looking for.
Love, poetry, a dance, perhaps? Her eyes flashed a secret that only a woman could decode. Albeit, I was fairly certain that secret would be a map detailing where I could stick my money and my bike.
I told her, "it's fine."
I was, of course, anticipating the standard, "all our options are what you see in the store," line. Ah, the journeyman's jibe rings true in a thousand tongues. Everyone else waiting in the wings, watching each second drip slowly down the face of the evening gave me little hope for receiving passable service anyways.
So there you have it. This review gave me far more satisfaction than Landry's.
Overall, Landry's gets 0 stars for service, 1 star for selection, and 1 star because I could've handled myself better had I been the shining star my mother raised me to be, instead of a disgruntled pedal pushing word robot from Canada. read more