The Second-Hand Bike

Carla had been thinking about buying a bike for months. The bus to her office was slow, the fares kept creeping up and the idea of arriving without feeling harassed had a growing appeal. The difficulty was money: the model she liked cost 400 euros, and she had resolved to set aside at least half of her salary this month. Spending a large share of it on a bicycle seemed hard to justify.

One evening a handwritten advert in the entrance of her building caught her eye: “Green bike, 120 euros, good condition.” The number belonged to Mr Dunn from the second floor. She hesitated, because she knew that cheap offers sometimes conceal expensive problems, but curiosity prevailed and she sent him a message that same night.

In the garage the next afternoon, the bike looked older than the advert had implied. It was nowhere near as smart as the model in the shop, and the paint was scratched in a few places; one pedal moved slightly when she pushed it. On the other hand, the brakes worked well, the chain was clean and the tyres were in good shape. Mr Dunn admitted that he had mostly used it at weekends, and Carla found his candour more reassuring than any guarantee.

She did some rapid arithmetic. A new pedal would cost about ten euros and a lock another fifteen. Even with these extras, the total remained far below the shop price, considerably cheaper than the new bike. “I’ll take it for 110,” she said, “if you’ll show me how the gears work.” Mr Dunn readily agreed and spent ten minutes explaining them, which she suspected was worth more than the discount she had negotiated.

On Monday she cycled to the office in fifteen minutes, almost twice as fast as the bus, and arrived earlier than usual. The bike was by no means perfect, and she knew she might upgrade it one day. For the moment, though, she was pleased that she had weighed the options instead of choosing on impulse or on price alone, and she locked the bike carefully outside the building.