BUYING A HUTCH

Thursday afternoon I drove over to a local used furniture store ready to commit to an old hutch I had looked at a few days prior. I had decided it would look perfect in my newly renovated office space in the Sardinia church.

Upon my arrival, I was relieved to see the piece was still there. The owner of the place assured me it was a good buy and reminded me that it was two pieces - making it easy to move.

He asked me if I was planning to haul it in my minivan parked outside the front window. I said, "Yup. The seats are out and it's ready to go." 

He said, "It ain't gonna fit in that. The top piece is too tall." 

Now I have an artist's eye and I am pretty good at sizing up spaces and I have spent a lot of time packing stuff into the back of minivans. "I think it will fit."

"It won't fit."

He brought a tape measure and I proceeded to prove my spatial intelligence beyond a doubt.

Next, he says, "Well, you need to pay for it before we move it. I don't want you to break the glass and then back out of the sale. That would be expensive for me to replace."

Really? First you question my judgment and now you question my character? (Not to mention my physical coordination!)

I cannot even imagine doing something so weaselly, but I saved my breath and just replied, "Of course, let's take care of that first."

After handing over the money, I asked, "Can I get a receipt for that?" 

He didn't say a word but tapped his handwritten sign that said "All Sales are Final". 

Good grief! I am not going to try to bring it back next week. I just want a receipt to give to the church treasurer. Reluctantly, he wrote me a receipt. 

As I drove away - with the hutch stowed safely in the back of my van, glass intact - I laughed a bit. I could have fumed that the salesman had questioned my character, my competence, and my common sense. 

I could have said, "I'm never going back to that place."

Instead, I felt prompted to extend some grace. Why should I take as insult any of his words when he doesn't know me from Adam? 

After all, without a doubt, each of the man's impolite precautions was based on bad interactions with customers in the past who were not me. And each one had brought misery enough that he didn't care to risk a replay. 

I am guessing that now that he knows me a bit, he might give me more benefit of the doubt the next time I am in his shop.