Wednesday, January 12, 2011

A Hot Winter Story

There's nothing like a good oxymoron!  What with the cold winter temperatures, it is pleasant to recall the warmth of summer. Sometimes, though, the summer is a bit too warm, and then we fantasize about cooler weather and the cycle begins anew. 

As a designer, I strive to give the best customer service that I can.  Most of the time, the behind-the-scenes hassles I shield from my clients.  I don't wish to distract them with all that is distressing about this business; that is what they are paying me for!  But sometimes we designers have experiences that are ridiculous and border on the absurd.  This past summer, at the height of a heat wave, one such incident occurred (that I hope is not too incriminating) and the evidence is as follows:
Exhibit "A"

Ordering a simple fiber board table to be covered with a cloth seemed simple enough.  I ordered one from a local supplier and picked it up, unassembled.  My client didn't think it would be an easy job, but I, with my Fortune Interiors background, knew my way around a hammer and a screwdriver!  I assured the client that I would take care of it and that it would be all assembled that very day.
Yours truly, in the middle, with some of my colleagues high in the rafters of our shop at Fortune Interiors.  We were a team of artists employed by Mark Twain Bancshares to design and fabricate the furnishings for the multiple bank branches.  Our artwork was also purchased by the bank and put on display.
Arriving with my tool box, I let myself in to the home and headed to the guest room, where the table was to be installed.  Having been told by the store that it was a simple task that "anyone" could do, I imagined I would be out in a half-hour.  I unpacked the parts and laid everything out for assembly.  For some reason the air-conditioning was off, and to my horror, I started to get sweaty.

As I was planning to go out immediately following this little task, I was dressed in a nice skirt and top.  Not wanting to appear in the evening as a drenched dish rag, there was only one thing to be done.  Close the bedroom door and be prepared to yell  "don't come in"  if anyone came home early!

Exhibit "B"

As I glued, hammered, and screwed, I felt that not just anyone could put this table together in the proper manner!  I had years of training to do it just right! Midway through the assemblage, the thought entered my mind that I had never done any carpentry quite like this and it was fairly comical. About one hour later, I got the job done, as promised, and packed up to leave for a well-deserved martini.  I marveled to myself what lengths I go to please my clients!  

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