How you say…?

I had one of those “am I speaking a different language?” moments this week when I went to pick up my guitar from the music store after some repairs. I gave my name to the guy at the counter, who seemed to recognize it, which I admit was slightly eerie, and he laid my guitar on the counter, saying, “You’re all set.”

RA: (internally) I know I didn’t pay for this yet. Maybe he didn’t do a good job. I’d better check. (out loud, after checking) Well, it looks good to me. What do I owe you?
Guy: Nothing, you’re all set.
(pause…)
RA: When I brought this in, I wasn’t charged for anything, and I assumed that I would just pay when I picked it up.
Guy: Nope, you’re all set. No charge.
RA: Um, I’m pretty sure that I should be charged for this. I haven’t paid for anything yet.
Guy: You’re…all…set…

And so I left, guitar in hand, bewildered and baffled. What in the world just happened back there? Isn’t it customary in this country to pay for repairs and/or materials? How did I not have to pay after I practically begged the guy to charge me?

The strangest part was the whole wink-wink-nudge-nudge aspect. Whatever was going on, I so did not get the code. Maybe to this guitar guy, I was saying, “You’re really hot,” or “I’ll come back with baked goods,” and he decided to let me go without charging me the forty bucks. For all I know, I uttered the secret code to sign on for some mob operation, and I’ll miss out on the job we’re pulling this weekend. I hope that’s not the case. Even when I think about it in hindsight, it is just plain weird. I have no idea what happened.