This short essay is by Mel Chaplin an American who resides in Brazil. I think you'll be entertained by Mel's thoughtful contributions, so his work appears from time to time on this forum. Enjoy!
In preparation for my sailing trip I had made a list of tools. On this list was a buffer/sander. It would save a lot of elbow grease when cleaning and polishing the boat. I was looking for a deal, so I went to one of those big box super lumberyard/ tool/hardware/garden stores. A secret mission was in my heart when I sauntered into the sanctum sanctorum of “guy-dom”; the tool department.
I strolled slowly up and down the aisles. It was a Mitty'esque day dream. I walked, unhurriedly, by the saws, screwdrivers, drills and wrenches that surrounded me. What satisfaction! I was in the midst of a grand collection of gadgets that would warm the heart of any handyman. Tools were all lined up on the hooks in their tidy rows. My finger reached out to touch the lightly oiled metal of a pristine drill bit. What a great sensation feeling the bit's sharpened flutes. These tools, sorted by size, make and type, lived there begging to escape to live in someone's cozy tool box. At the hammer display, my pulse quickened at the sight of their gleaming wooden handles, unscathed by use. The heads shone, not yet marred by the collision with the first nail. I lifted one, swinging it slightly, feeling the weight, noting its balance and sensing how that cold hardened steel head could drive a small spike home with ease. There were so many different sizes, weights and shapes. From small slim tack hammers on one side, graduating up to hefty five-pound hand sledges at the far end of the rack. Moving onward there were hand saws, miter boxes, clamps, sandpaper and pry bars. My euphoria grew as I went around the corner and on my right, spotted the large table saws, drill presses, band saws and lathes. They were all lined up, standing at attention like soldiers on parade.
On the left were electrical hand tools saws, drills, and routers. Finally, right there in the corner next to me, were the disk sanders/grinders. I had never owned one, but now that was about to change. A half-dozen brands were on display, but my eye instantly went to the one marked "CLEARANCE! DISPLAY MODEL". It was a Black and Decker. The little information chart, like the ones posted in front of all its brothers, was gone; Not even a price. This was the last one. It was maybe 9:00 AM, and not many buyers had yet graced these hallowed halls. The "associate" was not otherwise occupied so I beckoned to him for assistance.
“This is the last one, how much?” I queried.
He came over and looked at it. He flipped it over and found the model number. We ambled along to his computer terminal. "Well it was originally $49.95, but if you want it, how ‘bout $39.95?" He gave himself away with the "how ‘bout". I knew I could do better.
"Well, yeah! If you've got the box and papers and other stuff," I said. Figuring if those things were lost, he would be willing to negotiate further.
High above the hammers and drill bits, etc. are shelves. They are hidden behind facades covered by graphics. Mr. “Associate” gets the sliding ladder and proceeds to look through each and every section for the box and other accouterments. The buffer's box was not in the first section, nor the next, and so forth till the very end when he say's, "looks like it’s not here”.
"I don't know, without the warranty and wrench, it's kinda risky.” I responded thoughtfully.
"Well, what about $29.95?” he replies.
That was the kind of number I was waiting to hear. ”OK,” I said.
To change the price he had to get an override number. After a consultation with his co-associate, the correct code was indexed, and money exchanged. I left with a smile on my face, a warm glow in my heart, and a new buffer/sander in my bag.
The moral of the story is: The second best way to a man’s heart is through his tool box.
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