Twenty One Buck Cloyce

There's an old customer who frequents the Shop, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, who is dense. He's not all there. A few straws shy of a bale. A bubble off plumb.

Yesterday he called about the price of a switch, and I told him $21. He came by and brought his machine into the old barn. "Can you put it on Cosgriff?" he asked.

"Sure, but's that's $40, including the switch." It's a simple enough installation, but you have to charge something for labor, even a modest amount like nineteen bucks.

Cloyce protested, "I only brought $21. That's what you said on the phone."

Silly me, thinking that anyone ought to presume there might be a charge for labor above and beyond the cost of a part. I'll remember that next time, at least with Cloyce.

I sighed heavily and attached the switch, contenting myself to work for a Jackson and a Washington (which turned out to be two Hamiltons and a Washington, but potato po-tah-to). As I went about the task, Cloyce spotted a handle he wanted which happened to be on another customer's machine. "Can you put this on mine, Marty?" he asked.

Well, Cloyce, you already confessed to only having twenty one bucks, so how are you going to pay for that?, I thought to myself. Besides, it's on somebody else's machine. So I went for smarm. "Yeah, Cloyce, I'll take it off for you and nicely explain to the owner that you needed it. He'll understand."

"Okay, thanks, Cosgriff." Thanks for what, Cloyce? Do you actually believe I'm going to do that?

He did. After he paid me for the switch, Cloyce stood staring at me. "Ain't you gonna put that handle on my machine?"

No, Cloyce, I'm not, I told him, and explained why. I would have to order him one. And I told him the full, installed price up front.