I Just Met Jack

Allow me to set the scene:

Me. Flat. Bike propped on a fence (this is important) looking like a Mexican low rider. Spent tube around my neck. Helmet still on. Back wheel a good two feet from the bike. Another tube stretched across the sidewalk. Bag torn open (road salt fused shut the zipper). Tire levers spread out like pick up sticks. Pump in hand.

Jack approaches. "Is that your bike?"
"Uh, yeah (genius)."
"Are you locking it to my fence?"

Aside: this fool does not OWN the condo building in front of which I stand. I guarantee he's merely a tenant (I've met this unwelcome wagon before elsewhere in the city). They are passionate about fence paint.

Now what I say is, "No". What I think is, "No, Jack Ass if I had a lock right now you'd be wearing it like an ascot!"
"Well don't lock your bike to the fence because you'll scratch it and then I have to take care of it."
Really? You're worried about me scratching my bike, how sweet? You don't have to fix it for me. I'll be careful.

Aside Redeux: What he means is his landlord will cite locked bikes scratching the fence for a reason to raise his condo fees, which will ultimately increase regardless. And not a dime will ever deliver a bike facility to fix the 'problem'. And I bet the fence is painted regularly.

I hold up my pump and shake a tube in his face. Again what I said was, "Can you see I'm trying to fix a flat?!?" What I thought as he sauntered to his car and I collected my tirephernalia was, "Oh thank you kind Sir for that generous offer to help. The bike shop is only about 2-3 miles down the street, I can walk."

No, that's a lie. What I really thought was...Duly noted J. Ass, and will you be sending me a check or paying now in cash for the damage the salt on YOUR street has wreaked upon my bicycle, not to mention the shard of glass I just pulled out of my tube??

Seriously, U-lock...Ascot...And I'm not unlocking it first. Think about it.