Mine was so old that the Axis logos had little racing lines on them, which isn't allowed anymore because it's a brand violation. It's a 3-speed, with a little bell, lights back and front, a back tire lock, an extra nice seat (which I think Anders actually bought for me), a black wire basket and a snap-rack (or whatever it's called) on the back.
Anyway, one of my colleagues had told me she would be interested in buying my old Axis bike when I got my new one. Axis not only gives you a bike when you're hired, they give you ANOTHER one when you've been there for 10 years. But if I already HAD a bike I hadn't used for 10 years, what use did I have for TWO of them? So, it was definitely up for sale.
But then, after coming out and seeing my bike and the pristine condition it was in (after Anders cleaned it and pumped up the tires, etc.) (He's a great guy, have I mentioned that lately?), she decided against buying it because she just wanted "a shit bike for her son that wouldn't get stolen" with the implication being that my bike, despite its age, was much too nice for her purposes.
Not long after that, someone posted on a buy/sell page on Facebook that they were looking for bikes. I immediately flagged her and told her about mine and she was interested, so we messaged back and forth a bit and I sent her a photo. A couple of days later, she also declined the bike FOR THE VERY SAME REASON: it was too nice and would get stolen.
But! Someone else had seen my post, and SHE wanted the bike, so we messaged and I sent HER a photo. She decided to take it sight unseen (and then I found out another colleague of mine would have done the same thing, but it was too late for her, I had already accepted the offer). Are you keeping track? Do you really care? Are you getting ready to comment and tell me to cool it with the parentheses already?
Today, she came to pick it up from me at work. She called me when she got there, and I came down with the bike and handed it over. "Here you go!" I said brightly. "It's only been ridden a handful of times, and it's in great condition." I detailed all the features of the bike and handed over the key and the original manual. She bent over the back tire and jiggled the locking mechanism. "How does this work?" she asked me, "where does the key go in?"
"I don't know," I said. We figured it out. Then she asked me how the lights turned on. "Ummm...I don't know," I answered again. And then she asked me how to change gears (honestly, it really wasn't obvious, there's no switch) and I had to once again answer, "I have no idea."
"But I'm pretty sure the front end of the bike is the one with the basket on it!" I said. And then when she just looked at me, I said, "I swear, it's my bike! I didn't just grab one from the bike racks and sell it to you!"
Anyway, it's gone. Now if someone would only buy the wrong-size jeans I bought for Anders in the States at Christmas and the kids' old Wii with the steering wheel and games, I could be done with this entrepreneurship! And by the way, immediately after work, I went shopping with Karin because she needed new gym shoes (and shorts and socks) and spent MORE than what I made on the damn bike. *sigh*