hank the shoe maker guy
i take the advice of strangers. so a couple months ago i brought a coach purse and a pair of dkny boots to this ol shoe maker guy hank. now. i don't seek out monster dollar designer labels but i also don't kick the stuff to the curb on a whim. so believe me when i say i knew better when he cut the strap of the purse and resewed it in a rather cockeyed fashion. i didn't make the guy redo it. further, i didn't take my boots out of his near-senilic (can i say this?) posession. why? b/c he's a rather fucking wonderful story teller. ok, ok, i hear you. i cannot defend myself. i know the practical concern here. it's like watching some wellmeaning dealership employee drive your brand new car off the lot and scrape the damn thing from stem to stern along the brick building before parking in front of you, keys dangling. ta-daaaaaaa!
but. hank also is great comic relief even while it went from bad to worse. bad: purse strap cannot be fixed. it's glued where it's going to stay. he didn't leave enough room to make even a nanometer's change. worse: every time in the last two months i've gone in to pick up my boots, he's had some excuse: the weather isn't cold yet, i figured i had time. (what?!) i called you, you didn't answer. (he's old enough to not trust the technology of answering machines.) finally. finally i have my boots back. but i had to go to his shop twice today. he doesn't take credit. what the--?! ok. ok. no credit. a trip to the bank. another trip to the shoe store. $25 repair. but here's the thing....
hank's sister died on christmas day and is being buried tomorrow. he's got 2 daughters: the first, nancy, was married to an italian-american guy. tony, if i remember correctly. this tony told hank one day 31 years ago, "you got three houses. i think you should give one to us rent-free. that would make it easier on us. and if you don't, we'll get it all when you die anyway." hank said his feelings were really hurt. shortly thereafter hank's wife (she's part native american ["indian" says hank]) wasn't feeling so good. she told hank, "take me to the doctor b/c i can feel something growing in me." turns out, 25 years after their first daughter was born, a second daughter was born. hank's wife was 43 years old, hank 45. as i said, this was 31 years ago. so hank told his son-in-law: "tony, you're going to have a little sister-in-law so i'm going to be around a long long time." a few months later, tony was gone. and nancy? "she was jealous as hell." probably still is, i'd guess.
then there's the story of hank's mother-in-law. maybe i'll tell you about it some time. but you see? you see? i mean, a fucked up purse is a small price to pay when i can carry the hank story around with me just waiting...just waiting for someone to screw their face up at my bad sew job. then i can let em have it: hank.
ya know, vince believes efficiency is king and that might very well be true. but i was never into kings. i've always liked the princes and paupers better.
but. hank also is great comic relief even while it went from bad to worse. bad: purse strap cannot be fixed. it's glued where it's going to stay. he didn't leave enough room to make even a nanometer's change. worse: every time in the last two months i've gone in to pick up my boots, he's had some excuse: the weather isn't cold yet, i figured i had time. (what?!) i called you, you didn't answer. (he's old enough to not trust the technology of answering machines.) finally. finally i have my boots back. but i had to go to his shop twice today. he doesn't take credit. what the--?! ok. ok. no credit. a trip to the bank. another trip to the shoe store. $25 repair. but here's the thing....
hank's sister died on christmas day and is being buried tomorrow. he's got 2 daughters: the first, nancy, was married to an italian-american guy. tony, if i remember correctly. this tony told hank one day 31 years ago, "you got three houses. i think you should give one to us rent-free. that would make it easier on us. and if you don't, we'll get it all when you die anyway." hank said his feelings were really hurt. shortly thereafter hank's wife (she's part native american ["indian" says hank]) wasn't feeling so good. she told hank, "take me to the doctor b/c i can feel something growing in me." turns out, 25 years after their first daughter was born, a second daughter was born. hank's wife was 43 years old, hank 45. as i said, this was 31 years ago. so hank told his son-in-law: "tony, you're going to have a little sister-in-law so i'm going to be around a long long time." a few months later, tony was gone. and nancy? "she was jealous as hell." probably still is, i'd guess.
then there's the story of hank's mother-in-law. maybe i'll tell you about it some time. but you see? you see? i mean, a fucked up purse is a small price to pay when i can carry the hank story around with me just waiting...just waiting for someone to screw their face up at my bad sew job. then i can let em have it: hank.
ya know, vince believes efficiency is king and that might very well be true. but i was never into kings. i've always liked the princes and paupers better.
posted by stacy muszynski at 5:33 PM
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