Yesterday I spent a couple of hours wondering around my house gently tapping things with a hammer, just to make sure they are “working ok.”
The primary reason for the hammer purchase was to complete the construction of a flat-pack book case. And basically I’ve been sold the wrong sort of hammer.
The bloke in B&Q, when I asked for help picking one out, didn’t exactly fill me with confidence:
“I just need it for putting together a LIATORP bookcase” – I explain thinking he’d be an expert.
“Any of these should be fine.” he replies nodding towards a shelf of hammers before turning back to stacking tape measures. I don’t know if he understands the project fully…
“It’s one of these Swedish ones you see, so I don’t know if it needs to be EU compatible or if I might need an adaptor or something”
The bloke – who is named Andy I notice from his name tag – picks a up a hammer and places it into my hand. I read the tag: “Carbon steel Claw Hammer 16oz”
He must have sensed my uncertainty so he incorrectly informs me “this one will be fine mate.”
“And I can use it for testing stuff too?”
I decide that Andy must be new to working in the shop but buy it anyway so that he doesn’t feel stupid on his first day. I stop short of patting him on the head as I feel this would be patronising.
So now I own a defective hammer.
Two friends (Matt and Scott) who work in construction are on their way over to watch football though, and I imagine how impressed they will be that I know about hammers. I display it proudly in the centre of the coffee table in front of the TV.
Two hours later my two friends arrive as planned and almost immediately Scott notices something:
“What happened to the TV? It’s got a massive crack in it!”
“I was testing it with my 16oz Carbon-Steel Claw hammer” I say pointing to the hammer and smiling.
Scott looks at Matt and shakes his head. I take this as confirmation that B&Q Andy really messed up with his recommendation.