Is there anything worse than waiting for a shop to give your bike back? It's even worse when your bike is gone for more than a couple hours. Time slows. Every time you go outside, you see some lucky asshole on his/her motorcycle.
The first few times a motorcycle passes, I might think something charitable like, "Great day for a ride, you lucky biker." After that, I start thinking less charitable things like, "Great day for a ride, huh? You lucky jerk, taunting me with your two wheeled joy. Screw you."
The day passes, and I get more and more irritable with every hour. I wonder what's taking the shop so long. Why am I still waiting for parts? Haven't they heard of FedEx? How come it takes so long for paint to cure?
By this point, Lady Luck starts calling the shop asking if they could please hurry because I've challenged the wall to a staring contest, and I'm winning.
Man, I hate waiting to get my bike out of the shop.