Hardware Women

My friend SueG is revamping her life. A fresh beginning. Starting over. Part of that required the tossing out of old to allow the bringing in of new. She rented a dumpster, and the four of us, including her teenagers, went to work clearing out tons and tons of the old.

First up was clearing out the drawers and shelves of furniture. We threw away tons and donated bags of items. We took sledgehammers to furniture so it would all fit into the dumpster. I thought this would be a great way to take out some frustration, but alas, my arms were too weak to wield a sledgehammer. I was relegated to picking up the pieces and tossing them into the dumpster. It was great exercise, and my Apple rings were closed daily.

Eventually, little by little, we got rid of the old and concentrated on the new. SueG had a painter colorize the inside of her home. She put in new flooring and bought new furniture, including beds, a kitchen table, a living room set, rugs, and desks. The desks were ordered online, and when they arrived, they needed to be assembled. SueG groaned. I rolled my eyes.

Me: "We got this. Don't you remember our last project?"

SueG: "That's why I'm groaning."

Me: "Oh, please. We made one mistake. We fixed it. This will be a breeze."

Her son Alex and I decided we'd give it a go one afternoon after our homework tutor session. His ability to use a sledgehammer and haul heavy furniture made me decide to use him instead of the groaner. 

We opened the boxes, took out the parts, and I read the instructions while Alex got his toolbox. Most of it required putting dowels into holes, screwing in screws, and punching in cam locks. We rolled right through numbers one and two in the instruction booklet. At number three, we hit a snag. 

It called for us to align the cam locks into corresponding holes on panel B and assemble panel C and E to panel B. We turned the parts the way they were shown in the picture, but we had trouble getting panel B into panel C. 

I suggested we put C on the floor to shove B into place. It worked like a charm, and we tilted the parts back up to match the drawing before moving on to do the same with panel E. 

It didn't work.

It wouldn't go into the cam locks, no matter how hard we pressed. I suggested we turn it over as we had done with C. Before I could get up from my position on the floor to assist, Alex turned it over himself and promptly broke panel C at the two screws.

Alex: "I'm done. You broke the desk."

Me: "I'm not sure how you figure I broke it."

Alex: "You were the one who said, put it down."

Me: "I refuse to take the blame."

Alex: "We need some Gorilla Glue. We don't have any. I say we stop now until we get some."

He was right. We tabled the project for another day. 

The day arrived, and I chose it when the destructive kid was in school. Which left me with the groaner as my assistant. 

We started with panel C from the second desk kit. I figured why not use it to finish at least one desk. We completed the mission, moved on to number four, where I explained the dilemma. Sure enough, SueG and I ran into the same problem. 

At some point, and it could have been hours or just a few minutes, it dawned on me that the cam lock was the issue. These small circular items are about the size of a nickel and are open on one side only, so to get the screw to fit the cam lock, the open side has to be turned for this to happen. 

OH! No wonder our screws didn't fit the first time. 

Who came up with the bright idea to use cam locks? Those things are stupid.

But it was what we had to work with, and so after much turning and turning, we got panel C and panel E on to panel B. Then we breezed through numbers five, six, and seven. Number eight involved attaching the top of the desk to the structure. SueG did this standing while I sat on the floor working the tools.

Again screws had to fit into cam locks--seven screws to be exact, and we only had six cam locks. 

SueG: "Did we put the damn thing on backward? Like we did the TV stand?"

Me: "Do you see a cam lock on your side?"

SueG: "God, dammit! God, dammit! We did it again. I don't care. Take the damn screw out. We aren't starting over."

It made sense, and we finished the desk with one screw left over. 

That reminds me of a joke. Ask me to tell it sometime if you see me. 

We dusted off the desk, put it into its place in the new office area, and left to buy some Gorilla Glue to finish the other desk. We were on a roll.

Me: "Before we buy the Gorilla Glue, let's ask the hardware man what he suggests."

SueG: "There's nothing to ask. We need Wood Glue or Gorilla Glue or something to hold those screws into place."

Me: "But let's ask an expert. There's no harm in asking a hardware man. My dad went to the hardware store every Sunday and trusted everything those men had to say."

Only the person behind the counter of the hardware store was a woman. I'm not going to lie. I had a moment of discontent about that, which was quickly overtaken with disgust at myself. 

I mean, did I really believe a woman couldn't help me? Ugh. Sexism at its worse. 

Quickly recovering, I explained our situation to our hardware woman, who suggested adding toothpicks to our shopping list.

Her: "Dab in the glue with a Q-tip and then add the screw and a toothpick. That will help fill in the now larger hole."

Me: "I'll be damned. What a great idea."

SueG: "You were right. Good thing we asked for help."

Me: "Say that first part one more time."

SueG: "Should I wait for you to record it?"

We bought toothpicks and Gorilla Glue and went home, where I followed the directions of our new hardware heroine, with some trepidation about the glue holding in the screws. 

I've never used Wood Glue or Gorilla Glue, and it seemed too Elmers Glue for me to believe these screws would hold. (Aside: We chose the Gorilla Glue because we liked the company's commercials) After I had completed the task, I realized that I would have to cut down the toothpicks. 

Because it had to hold for twenty-four hours, I put the piece aside and built the drawers. Then I started in on attaching the metal sliders. I was on panel D, when the screw, the tiniest screw every made, fell right into the hole--without me screwing it.

Me: "Are you kidding me?"

SueG: "What? What now?"

Me: "The hole is too big for the screw. God, dammit!"

SueG: "That's it. I'm taking all of this back to Walmart and dumping it on the floor at the entrance."

We discovered the same thing on sister panel E. Two sliders fit. The other hole ate the screw.

I refused to allow her to drive to Walmart with our partially built parts. Instead, I got on my phone and looked up the company. Years ago, when Tom and I built our entertainment center, we had a warped piece, and Sauder nicely mailed us another.

While this company was not Sauder (although our last project, the tv stand, was Sauder), I followed the directions and filled out the form regarding the two pieces. Then, because her teen had discovered a scratch on panel C that very first day, and because I didn't have faith in Gorilla Glue, I went ahead and included it, bringing our replacement count to three.

I took and uploaded pictures to their website, and within five days, we had our replacement panels. 

We began again. I was feeling high. I mean, I had conquered the problem. I had gotten us not only replacement parts for the defective part but also for the panel we had to rig with Gorilla Glue. It took me exactly two minutes before reality set in, and I realized I needed those two screws out of that very panel.

And of course, you know from the foreshadowing that the damn Gorilla Glue said, Not today!  

I couldn't get those screws, or the toothpicks, out. I'm not even sure a sledgehammer would've removed them, and since I couldn't wield one, I didn't attempt it. 

Instead, we left out screw #7 on the top panel like we did on the first desk, and the extra screw from our earlier little debacle was all we needed for job number two.

SueG: "You could get a job as a HARDWARE WOMAN!"

Me: "And I seriously think I just might."

We finished building the damn desk. The cam locks drew the project out for more hours than I cared to spend, having more than enough work still left to do on the house, but by golly, when the kids got home from school, they had desks.

SueG: "Now I'm thinking I should return those lamps."

Me: "Why?"

SueG: "Because we have to put them together."

Me: "Oh, stop whining. It will be a breeze. Look how good we did with these desks!"

Sidebar: We had to return the lamps due to a stripping of the cord during construction. Not admitting defeat, however. We shall try again. We are HARDWARE WOMEN!