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Sauce: Bike.

I called about a bike the other day.  
It was listed in the paper, For Sale, Used Bike, $45, In a Town Near You.  
I assumed, based on the word “bike” that it had a seat and handlebars, which was all that really mattered to me.  The integrity of the brakes was negotiable.  I figured I could fix them if I had to, because had I just changed a tail-light in my car and it took only three weeks and two hours and five sets of wrenches of varying sizes, and I’m pretty sure it’s practically back to how it was before I began.  

“Hello,” a woman answered the phone.
“Hi, I’m calling about the bike you listed in the paper?”
“Ok.”
“Can I ask you a few questions about it?”
“Ok.”
“Oh...okay.  Great!  First, is it still available?”
“Which one.”
“There was only...one?  The used bike?”
“Ok.”
“So is it available?”
“It can be.”
“Great...So....do the brakes work?”
“It’s used.”
“I gathered as much from the ad.  What kind of condition is it in?”
“Used.”
“Okay.  Do all the gears work?”
“It has three gears.”
“Great!  Do they work?”
“It needs oil.”
“But is it rideable?  Does it have working brakes, and an intact frame?”
“It’s a bike.”

And so on.  It was similar to filtering nutrients out of Gatorade.  Difficult work for a doubtful, potentially unrewarding, and possibly nonexistent, result.  

I still don’t know if that bike has handlebars, but you know what?  Life is full of mysteries.  Maybe I’ll just live with the knowledge of the unknown.  
Or maybe I’ll call again tomorrow

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