Some of our tables– most of them, actually– have leaves in them. Any table that is on a pedestal is generally a breeze to put in and/or take out the leaf; the halves of the table are counterweighted and you can pull them apart with one hand.
And then there’s the tables with four legs, one in each corner, like you probably picture when you think of a table. These can be a bastard to get apart to take the leaf out, especially one or two particular models that I don’t even like to sell to people who want to be able to use the leaf. Pick a setting and keep it there forever; forget the leaf. If I have to demonstrate with those tables, I have to ask the customer to help me out, and one of us needs to stand on each end and pull to get the goddamn thing apart enough to take the leaf out. Sometimes we have to pull hard.
“Lend me a hand, here,” I’ll say to this hypothetical customer, as that’s a thing that people say to each other and it has a meaning that is immediately understood.
Yesterday, in precisely this circumstance, I said “lend me one hand” to the customer instead of “lend me a hand.” Why did I phrase it that way? Because yesterday was a long and emotionally draining day– there were good reasons I did not post yesterday, ending a streak of over two years of daily posting, and I was tired as hell and not, to put it mildly, my best self.
Oh, and also, the customer I was talking to had one arm, and I am a complete idiot.
I don’t know for sure that he noticed. He certainly didn’t react at all, but he didn’t buy the table.
But seriously. Jesus.