Some years ago when I first moved to town, I took a few items for repair into Nick's. I had just rented a partially furnished apartment close to the beach and not everything in it worked.
Nick's shop was on the main street going down to the city pier and appeared to be one of the first non-gift shops on the street. It had reconditioned Hoovers in the front window with mixers, toasters, and shavers and a bell over the door that jingled whenever the door opened. Inside it smelled like a mix of old wood, light machine oil and Pinaud. Nick didn't come out but asked me to come on back. It looked back there like the workshop in Disney's "Pinocchio" and Nick was Gepetto.
He took my bag of items and said I could come back in an hour. Which I did.
The shop was unlocked. Nick was not around. I saw my bag on the counter. Inside was a note and a bag of home made peanut butter cookies and oatmeal raisin cookies. The note said," I couldn't repair your items. Please accept these cookies. Any job worth not doing is worth not doing right. Nick"
I've been here ever since.
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What a great story?
ReplyDeleteYou've been where ever since? A customer of Nick's, or in that town? Or both.
I'll be looking forward to your next post. :)
Thanks Jan. I'm glad you liked that.
ReplyDeleteThe answer is both...I go into Nick's for vacuum cleaner bags, motor belts, ...you know, appliance stuff. And, I'm still here in San Clemente, Cal.
Richard