FUN IN MOTORCYCLE RETAIL.

Working at a motorcycle dealership as an accessories specialist is, for the most part, a great deal of fun. I am surrounded by all the new toys that continue to fuel my passion for riding and by people who share that passion.

However, there is always that one person who can ruin what was to be a lovely day.

Him: I require a helmet, size "Large", of a very specific type.

Me: Of course. What are the specifications?

Him: The finish must be black. But not any old black. It must be blacker than Donald Trump's soul.

The shell must be composed of materials stolen from the fuselage of the alien spacecraft being held at Area 51 and the blood of 3 sacrificial albino goats.

The interior impact foam must be 23rd century technology brought back here by a 3 breasted time travelling exotic dancer working her way through college.

The interior padding must be woven from the mane of a unicorn and infused with the essence of kittens and bunnies.

The visor must contain a heads up display, rear view capabilities, and x-ray vision.

Finally, it must cost less than $32.67 tax in.

Me: Well, sir, I have great news for you. We have one in stock. It is the last one available in the entire universe AND the three adjoining alternate realities. There will never be another one made as the company who created it was consumed in a star that went nova; the time travelling 3 breasted exotic dancer has gone missing after a tragic pole dancing/quantum singularity/wormhole incident; Satan now owns Trump's soul; the ASPCA has a court order banning essence gathering.

On the plus side, because you are the 1st customer to specifically request this helmet we are going to give you this helmet absolutely free as well as give you a $100.00 gift certificate good for anything, anywhere, any store, any time.

Him: (Staring vacuously at his phone)
                    I'll think about it.
         (Wanders out the door never to be seen again)