One day I got to work early in the morning just as the sun was rising. I noticed a bicycle next to my front entrance, and there was this note on it. The bike was an old Peugeot, but it was very nearly unused. It had steel rims that were still shiny although they were a weird French size (650B). The plastic shift levers were snapped in half, and the fixed cup was partially screwed in but cross threaded. It was going to be at least $150 to fix this. Here is what the note said:
“9-25-04
Dear Sir,
I’ve respected your little shop for many years, and the idea that you can survive in this day of massive stores, discount pricing, internet purchasing. You’ve definitely filled a niche in this neighborhood.
I found this bike and thought it might be of some good for me if I invested a few dollars into it. Who was I kidding?
I only got my wife mad. “What are you going to do with that junk bike?”
“But love, it’s a Peugeot!”
Anyway, I thought you might know of a family in need of basic transportation. Maybe a few scrap parts can give the bike future life. I bequeath it to a professional to fix.”
It was not signed.