Bill Henry-
Brussel Sprout Connoisseur
While I was using the chopper in the back part of the store, a woman came in to claim a finished frame.
Rather than wait for me at the front sales counter, she decided to meet me half way in work area. Anticipating having to pay for her completed framing, she unslung her shoulder bag (roughly the size and mass of a small refrigerator) and dropped it onto the work table.
Unfortunately, between the bag and the work table was a dry mounted, glossy poster which I had just finished glazing. The glass on the poster was no match for the studs on her bag. She appeared astonished that the 2 mm piece of glass would not support her hand tooled, leather accessory.
Sensing the weight of the bag would prompt her to slide the bag rather than lift it, I yelled, “Wait!”. Too late! She dragged the bag off the table and, wedged between the poster and her bag, a sliver of glass. The glass, of course, shaved a two inch swath from the surface of the poster. I was clearly not going to be able to complete that work in progress by Tuesday.
The woman blushed, then said, “I hope you don’t think I did that! The glass must have been defective!”
Without a word I calmly retrieved her frame and presented her with the bill. Without a word, she paid me.
As she was leaving, I said to her, “Needless to say, m'am, please find another picture framer!”
Merry freakin’ Christmas, lady!
Rather than wait for me at the front sales counter, she decided to meet me half way in work area. Anticipating having to pay for her completed framing, she unslung her shoulder bag (roughly the size and mass of a small refrigerator) and dropped it onto the work table.
Unfortunately, between the bag and the work table was a dry mounted, glossy poster which I had just finished glazing. The glass on the poster was no match for the studs on her bag. She appeared astonished that the 2 mm piece of glass would not support her hand tooled, leather accessory.
Sensing the weight of the bag would prompt her to slide the bag rather than lift it, I yelled, “Wait!”. Too late! She dragged the bag off the table and, wedged between the poster and her bag, a sliver of glass. The glass, of course, shaved a two inch swath from the surface of the poster. I was clearly not going to be able to complete that work in progress by Tuesday.
The woman blushed, then said, “I hope you don’t think I did that! The glass must have been defective!”
Without a word I calmly retrieved her frame and presented her with the bill. Without a word, she paid me.
As she was leaving, I said to her, “Needless to say, m'am, please find another picture framer!”
Merry freakin’ Christmas, lady!