Skip to main content

What a Nice Boy!

Eustacia is home for the summer, and now I have to hear a phrase that makes those little hairs on the back of my neck bristle—"I'm bored." I've been told that if you're bored, you're boring, but I don't believe that's quite true. And even if it is, it's an unkind retort to someone who's accustomed to activity and people and raucous noise and then has to spend the summer in a quiet house so devoid of activity that in the mornings when the porch doors are open, it sounds like wilderness with nothing to hear but chirping birds and agitated squirrels.

The other day, my reply to Eustacia's whine was to suggest she clean up the pile of DVDs she had dumped on the dining room floor. I was envisioning an entire summer having to walk around the things, and I think it isn't unreasonable for an unemployed person to get off her slothful rear end and pick up after herself.

Anyway, she decided that instead of shoving the movies in a cobwebby box from the garage, she would build one customized to suit. She measured and sketched and presented me with a plan to build a DVD box. We don't have wood in the house. We also don't have a power saw. So, we took the plan to Lowes and marched in ready to be mocked.

We walked up to a man who looked like he knew about woodworking, and I said, "First, let me just say that we're out of our element here. Second, we need help with this." I shoved the plan at him, said we wanted wood for the project, and asked if he'd cut it to the specifications for us.

I was expecting to be laughed at, or at least have some punk roll his eyes at me and my stupidity when it comes to wood and saws, but instead I got respect and help. How nice. We were introduced to a guy, a kid from my perspective, named Travis. Travis listened to what we needed, walked us through an aisle filled with plywood, and took us back to a big, dirty saw where he patiently cut up a board into all the little pieces we needed. He seemed to take on the project as his own and was so proud at how he'd figured it out that when he was finished, he put down his goggles and said, "I'm a genius."

Yes, Travis is a genius. He's also kind and polite and helpful. When he could have been a jerk and acted imposed upon, he did his job and kept some customers from feeling a little embarrassed. If he's not careful, we might show up with another project someday. Eustacia might want to build her own desk. Or a whole house.

Comments

kyle@sift said…
Or perhaps with all her free time she might to volunteer at the market this summer...hint...hint...nudge....
nudge.
Shan said…
I think Lowe's and Home Depot have customer service down pat. They are two of the few stores anymore that still capitalize on it in the hiring process, I think.

I gained a brother in law by one such helpful transaction. Jamey's sister was buying paint at HD once and the nice young man offered to carry it out to the car for her. The rest is history. :D He's still extremely helpful, btw.
Job seems to rather scarce for college students right now,at least according to my son... What a great experience you had at Lowes, should be a good plug for them.
Shazza said…
LOL - I've heard that phrase as well and I have the same reaction. Good for Eustacia for tackling the project in a different way and Hooray for Lowes for being so helpful!
Alifan said…
Very good Robyn, nice of the lad to help like that.....

My friend Ivan is a carpenter, and so he is always coming here with little boxes he has made for the garden.etc that he has made from odd wood, am now going to have an under bed drawer made, me thinking it would be just an odd thing, however it is turning into a work of art!!!!!!

E may well turn out to be a top designer!!
MmeBenaut said…
I can't wait to see the finished product. Eustacia has certainly used her imagination and with Travis' help, it should be a work of art!

Great story Robyn. You've given me an idea or two; especially for that custom-made wood box/window seat that I've been asking MB to make for me.

Popular posts from this blog

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...

Ish People

Tell an Ish person to show up around 9 a.m., and you'll see them somewhere around 9 a.m. Tell them to show up at 9ish, and you'll see them anywhere from 9:05 to 9:20. You have given them license to dilly dally, and who wouldn't take advantage of that? The other night at the big shindig dinner party, one of the drummers said the rehearsal the next morning would begin at 9ish. "I am an ish person," he says. Immediately the clanker goes off in my head--oh, good, I thought. I can deliver my daughter a little late. No Ish person is early, so if you say 9ish, that does not mean give or take 5, 10, 15 minutes. It's exclusively a taking phrase. Take an extra 10 minutes to drink your cup of coffee. We won't mind. We're Ish people. Sunday's rehearsal started at 2:00. Because it was conducted by the same people who conducted the Saturday rehearsal, my understanding was 2-ISH. My daughter is worse than I am about taking liberties with Ish time frames, so she d...

Long Live Anita Bowser

You know I occasionally check my hometown newspaper's website to scan the obituaries (morbid, I know, but I'm at that age). Over this past weekend, I read the obituary of Indiana State Senator Anita Bowser . She was a noted Democrat who championed causes protecting the neediest in the state's population. She was respected on both sides of the aisle for her intelligence and plain and outspoken approach to law making. The picture on her senate page is lovely. I remember none of those things about Anita Bowser . My first year or so in college was spent at a branch of Purdue University, and in the early 80s, Anita was a political science professor. She taught my American Government class my freshman year, and she was a mess. Somewhere in my old text book, I have a sketch of her drawn on a particularly dull day in class--her hose sagged at her ankles, her slip showed at least half an inch all the way around, her hair had been slept on but not brushed, and her bright red lip stic...