The experiment

In an hour or two, I shall call a fellow and tell him his machine left for repair is ready. I am very happy that it is ready: on repairs, I don't get paid until jobs are done. So be it.

The fellow will profess over the phone to be quite happy too. He has admittedly waited awhile, as we at the Shop have been dealing with the vexing and somewhat paradoxical problem of being quite busy while having trouble getting parts. COVID for us hasn't slowed business (indeed for us at the old barn 2020 has been outstanding) but it has made it tough at times. The rub is that this particular fellow has been rather outspoken about why can't he get his machine, he really needs it, he's losing money, blah blah blah and ditto ditto ditto. 

Fair enough, so far as it goes. But allow me to tell you why I haven't been overly worried or allowed myself to become rushed about getting his repair ready: he won't come pick it up until after the first of the year, about nine weeks from now as I write. He's the type of fellow who rushes you yet takes his time picking up finished projects.

Me Pops used to say that everyone's in a hurry until it's time to lay the money down. That's not true of all people of course but it is true of the squeeky wheel to whom Pops ultimately refers. We've had plenty of them over the years.

I'll let you know how this turns out, and I promise you I'll play fair. But I am quite certain that you will be reading many unconnected blogs before I tell you January 7, 2021, that our fine fellow has finally gotten his machine out of Shop hock.