Hardware Store Conversation

My affinity to craft and DIY projects often takes me to the hardware store.

I have learnt; in my progress from a craft novice in school to self acclaimed Paperwalla, that undertaking a transaction at a hardware store is an art.

Firstly, you need to know all the right words to say. If you need something to dig soil with, you'll need to know how to say koyta, favda & kudhal. If it is a screws that you seek, you need to know ek inchi, dedh inchi and Da Vinci. Showing him the size of your weenie with your thumb and index finger won’t suffice.

Second, you need to sound like the people who usually visit hardware stores viz. civil contractors, carpenters, plumbers, fitters and other skilled labourers. Make your voice sound grouchy and deeply uninterested. Assume that his store has whatever it is that you seek and order the shop assistant to fetch two of this and three of that. Retch, spit. Ask no questions and expect none back. Pay money. Scoot.

Failure to abide by these unwritten rules will invoke the hard look that the Hardware Industry Dictionary calls, “You don’t belong in our world. Go back to wherever it is you are from and stay there.”

I was at the hardware store today to buy some sand paper. The storekeeper- without taking his eyes off the book where he was writing a thesis report, ordered his assistant to fetch me sandpaper. I feel the paper. Hmm. It’s nice but I actually need it in black. I know black sandpaper exists. I ask him, “Isme black colour hai kya?”

Damn. Wrong question for a hardware store. What was I thinking? It didn’t strike me to retch and spit either.

The storekeeper sighed. He looked up from his NASA field magnification case study once again and asked, “Kya ghasneka hai tumko?” (WTF do you plan to scrub anyway?)

Dreaded question to which I had no answer. I wasn’t planning to scrub anything. And I did not want to tell him what I needed the paper for! I don’t think any creative person wants to. You think a carpenter asks his magician client why he needs that table exactly cut in the middle? No! Thou shall beget no secret. I don’t even tell my mom or my fiancé (Ooh, that feels nice!) what I am making purely because I like to see wonderment on their faces when I show them the finished product. And now this hardware storekeeper wants to know what I want to scrub with black sandpaper.

I tell him I want the sandy texture of the paper and feel the top of the sandpaper. He puts his pen down on the rubber coated counter, sits back in his chair and says, “Ah.” He looks at me but I know that he’s thinking he’s never met anyone who buys sandpaper for its texture. Hmmm. Interesting day for him at work. May be he’ll tell his wife about it tonight.