Saturday, November 2, 2002

Bob Vila�s got nothing on my sister.

My birthday is on Sunday and I sucker convince my sister that what would really make me happy is to have a bookshelf built to house my record collection. She is, of course, Martha Stewart on crack so this should be no problem for her. We decide we are going to go to the local building supply store to get the lumber we need for this project, since they will cut everything for us. I meet her there.

My sister in a building supply store is like an addict in a pharmacy. She examines every square inch of the place. As she approaches the craft displays she spots something, �Oh, look at that� ( a Santa made out of a 1 x 3). She examines it closely and announces, �How cool is that? 17.99? I could make that myself.� The sad part is, she will. And not only that, she will make 50 of them before Christmas. Then she will never make another as long as she lives because, of course, everyone she knows will have one in their possession.

We browse the lumber and see something that looks right, I notice a guy standing 3 or 4 feet away measuring the width of a board. �If we were smart we would have brought a tape like that guy�. At that, my sister bats her eyelashes and asks the guy, �Can you measure this one for us?� and in the sexiest Australian accent he says �16 inches, but if you need it in metric your asking the wrong bloke.� How fuckin� adorable is that? Now I don�t give a shit about the shelf, I just want to hear him talk some more.

Finally a man in a smock steps up and asks if he can help me. I explain to him what we want to make. As I am giving him the measurements I can see his eyes glazing over. You don�t exactly find rocket scientists in a building supply store. �How about if I draw it for ya?� He hands me a pad and pencil. Now he has a visual and starts suggesting materials. He really doesn�t know who he is dealing with, we have power tools. (URGH URGH). He directs us to the pre-surfaced shelving material. The pressed board with the white plastic coating. Yuck! Finally we ignore him and decide to go with MDF, figure out how much we need and hand it over to Opie so he can go cut it for us.

�I don�t know about that guy, he doesn�t look too bright� Turns out he wasn�t. I pay for the lumber and head out back with the slip to pick it up. No problem, till I get to the gate. Seems Opie forgot to put a couple things on the slip so now I have to pay the gatekeeper before I can finally be on my way. Now I worry if the guy even cut it right. But if I know my sister, no matter what Opie did to fuck it up, she will have it looking like something out of a cabinet makers shop. (I will post pics.)

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