MM, I don't have any strong associations with the names "Fred" or "Eugene", but I suspect that's a generational thing. Also, even for a generation such associations can change pretty quickly. I remember as a kid thinking that Ursula was a sort of dorky name, but then Ursula Andress came along and the name became sexy. I suppose most Americans associate the name Igor with the misshapen servants of mad scientists, but then I've known a few wonderful men named Igor, not to mention the Igor whose host was the subject of a famous lay, so that association has been lost for me.
I think so. This was in Portland, Maine, in the mid-nineties. The cool racer guys were often as not from other shops; we were more like the scrappy punk rock (the staff) and family (the customers) shop. We were the only proper bike shop in town selling tricycles, I think. I moved, sadly, but they're still there: Back Bay Bicycle. Stop in if you're in Portland, they're super nice.
In my misbegotten youth I was a bicycle mechanic, and the cool racer types who hung around the shop where I worked would dismissively refer to non-cool-racer types as "Freds." Freds are the kind of cyclists who don't ride much, but are over-geared. They have little rear-view mirrors glued onto their helmets, and a spare tire and a pump and two water bottles and a little toolkit and an altimeter strapped or bolted onto different parts of their bike frame. Freds have kickstands and fenders and a rack and a bell. They have a little basket on their handlebars. They both tuck their pant legs into their socks and wear a reflective strap on each ankle to prevent getting chain grease on their trousers. And most of all, Freds are squirrely: they have trouble riding in a straight line, possibly because of all the appurtenances affixed to their bike and their person. So you don't want to ride too close to a Fred, because they're unpredictable and despite their harmless appearance, inadvertently dangerous.