Sunday Rush

Even the boss sometimes underestimates the growing demand for DIY-related products.

By Steve Siciliano

On the way to the store Sunday morning I told Barb there was nothing to be concerned about. Chris would be in when we opened at 10am, Sarah was scheduled at noon, and for the intervening two hours I assured her that I would just sit at my desk, catch up on some paperwork, answer phone calls and write some emails. Nothing more strenuous than that. It had been six days since my second hip-replacement surgery.

While Barb did her pre-opening Sunday routine of sweeping and mopping and vacuuming I did mine. I counted Saturday’s receipts and made out the deposit. I recorded the sales figures then pushed my walker around the store and tidied up the shelves. Chris came in and flipped on the lights and the OPEN sign. Everything was going according to plan. I pushed my walker to my desk and eased gingerly into my chair.

At 10:15 the floodgates opened. Two new customers came in who wanted to learn about making cheese, bread and wine. While Chris worked with them I helped a constant stream of beer, wine and cider makers. I rang up customers buying beer and cigars. Once when I tried to negotiate my walker to where we keep the empty boxes I found that I couldn’t and had to ask the customer if he would mind grabbing one for me. When Barb came up to the counter with a case of bottles for another customer I gave her an uneasy smile.

“Looks like I’m back to work,” I said.

She gave me one of her stern, Nurse Ratched type looks but said nothing.

Later when we were back at home Barb helped me into my recliner and propped a pillow under my swollen left foot. While I rested I thought about the morning, how tired I was and how sore the area was around my ten-inch incision. Then I thought about the years when there were hardly any customers. Before I drifted off to sleep I smiled and counted my blessings.