Monday, September 20, 2010

brushed steel

It seemed a pity to put our old, scratched, dull sink into our new kitchen. It would be akin to dirty sneakers with a white dress. Picking out a new one seemed simple enough. Stainless steel, two basin, how hard could that be. Standing before the sink display I felt the first flicker of doubt. Still, a decision was made and a youthful lackey was dispatched to the warehouse to retrieve the winner. Time passed. He eventually returned with a tattered opened box. Parts seemed missing. A second clerk braved the warehouse. More waiting. Ahhh, success. I joined a long queue. My plan, pay and run.
The next morning, the sink was wrestled from its factory sealed box and we were astounded to discover that the box and contents were complete strangers. A phone call confirmed that a distant location still had two sinks available. No, it could not be put on hold, store policy, but there were two after all. Back into the car, back in to the store, back in to the warehouse. A lengthy wait ensued. The computer was consulted. Amazingly, the last sink had been sold just moments before. One remained on display but couldn't be sold. Store policy. I joined a long queue to return the misboxed sink.
With a sinking heart ( sorry about the pun) I drove despondently to Home Depot. I dreaded starting over. I dreaded comparing prices and features. I dreaded waiting. I was met as I entered by a young worker. Could he help me find something, he queried. " Sinks, please," I said wearily. "Follow me," he said gaily. We were before the sinks in a moment. "Pick this one," he urged. "It's my favorite." It became my favorite too. He escorted me to a til, bearing the sink before us and placing it on the counter. A new clerk sprang to my aid.
I recalled with resignation, the sale priced sink of the other store. "I don't suppose you'd want to match the sale price," I sadly mused, more to myself than anyone else. "It's not even the same brand...." "Sure, why not," the clerk enthused, waving his arm in a grand, sweeping gesture. Twenty nine dollars was duly removed from the bill. It turned out to be the perfect sink. The brushed finish did mean we had to exchange the faucet we had painstakingly selected, for one with a matching brushed finish, but, in for a penny, in for a pound. I love the new faucet even more than the first one, no flicker of doubt about it.

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