Customers

Nick is out of town, which leaves me to deal with everyone who stops by the gallery. I worked from 9-5 today, and had quite a few people stop in. My conclusion - I like it a lot better when Nick is there to deal with the clients.

Some highlights:

A mother and daughter came in to pick up two paintings they had brought to us for repair. I felt bad for them, because whoever did the framing in the first place did a very bad job. The corners were pulling apart and one of the paintings had been framed before the paint dried. I tried to get it out, realized the potential danger and left it for Nick. He fixed it, somehow. The other frame was really beat up. Really, really, beat up. The wood was cracking. We had to replace the entire interior frame. Anyway, these women arrived, I pulled the paintings out and they bent over them as if they were holding magnifying glasses, inspecting every last square inch of the frames. Finally, one pointed to a small dent on the outside corner of the beat up frame and said, "I don't think this nick was here." The other agreed with her. They talked about how they had noticed all the dings before, and finally looked at me and said, "Do you think this could have happened while it was here?"

I wanted to say, "What is wrong with you? That painting has had the living daylights beaten out of it, and now you're trying to blame us for a dent that's right next to the entire corner we had to rebuild?"

I said, "No. We are very careful."

They talked for a while longer, and finally decided not to press the issue. I wrapped the paintings for them and then offered to help them carry everything downstairs.

As soon as I made this offer, these women, who had been unfriendly to the point of not even returning my smiles, suddenly became my best friends. As we walked down the stairs they asked me about the mansion, myself, my house, how I like the job.

The whole thing left me feeling rather confused.

Next came a lady carrying a small box. She said, "Do you do photos?"

I said, "We frame photos."

She said, "No, I need these developed."

I said, "We don't do that here."

She said, "Do you know anywhere that does?"

I said, "I'm sorry, but I don't."

She looked at me rather pointedly and said, "Well, it said in the phonebook that you do restoration. I have some historical film that I want printed."

I wanted to say, "Lady, do you have any idea what you are talking about? Do you know what it takes to print film? We'd need a dark room, an enlarger, all sorts of chemicals. I just said we don't do that here. It's a completely unrelated field."

I said, "We make minor repairs on paintings and work that is already, you know, printed."

She said, "Well, the phone book says you handle historical pieces."

I said, "I'm sorry."

She left, looking at me as if I'd somehow mislead her, deliberately and maliciously.

When I was at lunch the rude lady who wanted a photo of her grand-daughter framed finally came and picked up her piece. She just took it out of the gallery, and left a check. I hope she never comes back.

However, when I am not being bothered by the customers, I rather enjoy it when Nick is gone. I get to hang out in my little sunlit room, cuttings mats and glass, assembling frames and seeing everything leave looking a little better than when it arrived. Not a bad way to pass the time, really.