Jake was a customer at Destinations. In his late twenties, Jake was divorced and took up weight lifting. A couple of years later, he got into mountain biking. He was a bit...bulkier...than the average mountain biker who came into the shop. His biceps were huge, as was his chest. He looked a little like one of the Martians from "War of The Worlds".
One day, he came into the shop with a buddy of his. They were both in a panic, because Jake had borrowed his older brother's mountain bike so that his buddy could go riding with him. The problem was, the buddy had crashed the bike and taco'd the front rim.
"Can you fix it?" Jake asked. "My brother is going to kill me!"
I worked on that wheel for about an hour. I laid it on the floor and stepped on it, banged it against the bench, and used every little trick I knew to bring that rim back to life. By the time I was done, the wheel was true and round, and the spoke tension was pretty even all the way around.
"I can't guarantee it will stay this way," I said to Jake.
"That's okay," he answered. "My brother will never know that Jim, here, bent it. I'll buy him new one, after payday, if this one doesn't hold up."
The funny thing was, I had met Jake's brother. As a matter of fact, I had sold him the bike that Jake had borrowed. He was a little guy, smaller than I was. But, he loomed large in his kid brother's eyes.
Funny how that works, sometimes.