Trials and Tribulations

Kiss My Glass!

"I thank God for all my trials and tribulations," said the fidgety man behind the counter.  I should have turned and run out of the store right then but I just answered, "I prefer mine vicariously."  Turns out, we both got what we asked for.

I handed the fellow my picture and asked him to replace the glass with a non-glare piece.  "But first," I said, "I have two questions.  Will my 40% coupon work and can you recycle the piece of glass that's currently in there?"

"I think so." he said.  He wrote up a quote which turned out to be quite pricey but with the discount it would be about twenty dollars.  Even that seemed high to me - but then again, I remember when gas was thirty-seven cents a gallon.  Maybe the days of reasonably priced glass went the way of the dinosaur, too, and I just wasn't paying attention.  Perhaps twenty dollars isn't so out of line after all; I just don't know.

After taking careful measurements, the man disappeared through the open doorway into the custom framing area that was in the room behind him.  When he returned a few minutes later, he was wearing thick rubber gloves just like the ones I use when gardening.  "Sometimes the glass likes to bite me," he said.  When he slid the glass into the frame, it was about an eighth of an inch too short.  

"Oops!"  he said, mildly flustered. As he was re-measuring, he said, "You won't have to pay for my mistake.  I can use it later."  I was happy on both counts.  As he left me waiting again, Jerry joined me.  Minutes ticked by.  Then we heard the distinctive sound of breaking glass.  More time elapsed.  More glass breaking.  Things just weren't going well back there.

A frustrated employee reemerged.  "There's something wrong with the machine," he declared.  "There must be a shard stuck in it."  He turned around and vanished.  

The third time's the charm!  Not for this guy - we heard a series of loud crashes this time. While I was thinking how lucky it is this man has on thick gloves, Jerry was thinking differently and softly chuckling. The more noise we heard, the harder it was for Jer to keep his composure.  Finally he lost his battle entirely and walked away laughing out loud.  Minutes later I could still hear the sound of Jerry's muffled laughter a couple of aisles away.

Just as things were getting almost unbearably awkward for me, another employee cruised by.  He was wearing a RED vest, unlike my helper who was in BLUE, so I took this to mean he was an AUTHORITY FIGURE.  

"Can I help you?" he asked from behind the counter.

"Can you cut glass?" I responded.  

So it was that Mr. RED went in to lend a hand to Mr. BLUE.  Together the two guys broke two more pieces of glass.  You have to admire their persistence. 
Eventually they emerged, triumphant.  They gently placed the glass into the frame and it fit perfectly.  

It fit.  It just didn't look like non-glare glass.

The finished product.  Glare or Non-glare?

They assured me that it was only the high-intensity lighting in the store causing the illusion of glare.  As Mr. BLUE is ringing me up, I say, "Remember my coupon."  Mr. RED says, "Oh, you can't use those for custom-cut glass."

As we are walking out to our car Jer looks at me and says, "Yah know we just paid $36.58 for this glass and there's a 50/50 chance that it's the same piece we brought in."

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