Default Treatment (I)

An incident displaying default treatment:‎

The cogs of my bike broke, so I go to a bike repair man. He tells me how unfortunate this ‎event is, and tells me that they cost 38 L.E. First rule when dealing with repairmen here ‎in Egypt (sanay3eya) is to act cheap and so I did. I acted shocked and very disappointed ‎and then I ask him where one buys them. He responds, “You don’t buy it, I’m the one ‎who buys it but you’ve got to tell me now.” When a sanay3ee tells you this, it’s a sign ‎of malicious intent, any kind of veiling of facts or barriers put up are not a good sign. I ‎suspected that I was being ripped off and so I put it to the test. I acted very cheap as if I ‎couldn’t afford this much to see if he would waive part of his profit, so he tells me there ‎are others for 15 and 20, and then goes on to explain how prices vary. This technique ‎almost always works. If he wasn’t going to let me buy the part, I wasn’t interested, not ‎that I would know much about it, but the whole idea of banning me from buying was not ‎something I could accept.. I walked off after realizing there was a bit of dishonesty.‎

So my bike remained broken and I had to go to another bicycle repairman. He was an old ‎man who had no problems at all being grumpy. I’ll call him Grouchy Bikeman. When I ‎went to Grouchy the first time, it was almost evening and he literally shooed me away ‎telling me that he only works very early in the morning. Fair enough, I politely gave him ‎the benefit of the doubt and made up my mind to go visit him the next day. The mistake ‎here is in the manner in which I retired, which was ‘politely’, in hindsight it would have ‎been far better to be pushy and slightly rude. ‎

In any case I went early the next morning, dragging my bike, new cogs in hand. The man ‎was literally idle but told me to leave the bike and the spare part and come back in an ‎hour. I told him I would wait but he decidedly refused to work on my bike in my ‎presence. It was absurd and irrational and so I discussed it politely but to no avail. He ‎wanted to work on the bike ONLY in my absence. When I insisted that I had nowhere to ‎go for an hour so that his highness can work on my bike, he told me that he won’t fix it ‎and that I should look for another place.‎

I gave my father a call to come pick me up because I had no intention of dragging the ‎bike back. I could feel the fury in my father’s voice as he told me that he was on his way. ‎He has a problem when a service provider veils his services and your property from your ‎sight. ‎

So he came in front of the shop, screeching breaks, got out and calmly shouted at ‎Grouchy Bikerman, “Meza3al el baih el so3’ayar laih?” ‎

Now my father is a big man and his very appearance reeks of importance. The man was ‎stunned, he tried smiling but was met with a stern unmoving expression from my father. ‎Grouchy Bikerman replied something very unmemorable as he stuttered. ‎

My father said, “Mesh kefaya sahraneen fel qism tool el lail, mesa7eena badry we mza3al ‎el baih el so3’ayar laih?”‎

Grouchy Bikerman was pale with fear, he tried to put on a nervous smile and said, “He ‎just thinks I will take parts out of his bike and I was telling him not to worry.” My father ‎turns to me and says, “Etfadal enta ya Will baik, mat3atalsh nafsak, I will handle this.”‎

I’m used to my father’s tactics and I play along, Grouchy Bikerman treats his customers ‎with a little bit more respect. He apologizes and fixes the bike in the presence of its ‎owner.‎