Mistakes were made

New York City meets Munich

Don’t ask, don’t tell

May 14th, 2002 · No Comments · Uncategorized

“How many feet of chain is this?” asks the saleswoman at the hardware store.

“Two lengths of twenty four inches, and two lengths of forty inches, so we’ll call that eleven feet.” I say. I smile at Conny View definition in a new window, but she’s not impressed with my math.

The saleswoman thinks for a moment, and nods. She doesn’t want to be bothered to check my arithmetic. She begins ringing up the rest of our purchases: large eyebolt, washers, lock nuts, and ten carabiners (we took all the ‘biners they had).

Two guys who you’d expect to encounter waiting in line at a hardware store watch our transaction.

“What are you hanging?” the bearded guy with the cap finally asks, smiling. “We’re riggers for a theatre” he adds, pointing to his companion.

I pause a beat.

“Stuff.” I say.

Everyone around the counter chuckles. No one presses for details.

What I really wanted to say was “Her” and point to Conny.

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