Tonight I had a vendor out to the house to do some measuring for some new kitchen appliances. It turns out that ovens don’t last forever. When he called to say that he was a few minutes away he sounded like a really nice guy. I explained that our house is a bit of a disaster due to our just getting our plumbing fixed. I get it, he said.
The door bell rang and I invited him in. I quickly noticed two paragraphs of words tattooed on the outside of both his arms. Figuring it was Scripture, the rabbi in me wanted to know what it was that moved this gentleman. Turns out it was the 2nd Amendment. And on top of that, on the inside of his left arm there was another tattoo, this one of an intimidating looking automatic weapon.
You must be pretty committed to the 2nd Amendment, I said. As he measured the opening where my new microwave will go. Sure am, he said. Nonchalantly. And what kind of gun is that, I asked. An M-16, the kind I carried in the military. Thank you for your service, I said. And a belated Happy Veterans Day, I said (wondering if that’s the right greeting). And knowing that I meant it.
Hey, someone’s cooking something delicious in your neighborhood, he said. I could smell it the minute I got out of my truck. That’s probably me, I said. I’ve got my Kamado Joe fired up out back, but it’s just charcoal so far. That’s all it takes, he said. You do much outdoor cooking, I asked. I’m building out my outdoor cooking space as we speak, he said. Followed by a detailed description.
15 minutes later I walked him to the door. Hope you have some good music for the long ride home, I said. I just got a new truck so I’ll be blasting Sirius XM the whole way, he said. With a smile. See you when it’s time for the install.