My place has two closets. There’s the main one, which is where most of my stuff is and then there is the walk in one. The walk in one came fully furnished with no closet rod in it, so it makes it rather hard to hang up anything in there.
So, I decide to go out to Brownie Hardware on Polk & Sacramento. It’s a nice little hardware store. The kind that would definitely have a six foot wooden closet rod. I get and indeed they do have my six foot closet rod. Bingo. Problem solved. Okay, so now I get to walk back down Polk and up Sutter.
This may seem like a simple journey, but low and behold, a guy has just gotten out of jail after being in there two and a half years (he yelled it out to somebody across the street in case you were wondering how I knew) and while he should be happy with his freedom, he takes fascination in my six foot closet rod. He asks, “Hey, what’s up with the pole?”
“It’s for a closet.”
“Oh yeah? Looks like a big closet.”
“Sure.”
“Think I could buy that from you?”
That bit caught me off guard. I realize in prisons that they don’t have hardware stores; that would probably promote breakouts afterall, but still, offering to buy someone’s six foot closet rod is a bit odd.
“Nope. Just got it. Going home to install it.”
“Oh man, why you gotta be like that?”
“Huh?”
“Fine, keep your damn pole. I’ll find one somewhere else!”
“O K”
I don’t know if he ever managed to find the hardware store that was a block up the street where I got my six foot closet rod, or if his fascination with it simply passed. No on else seemed to mind my rod too much, but I did get many envious looks from some interesting characters on the rest of the walk home.
Luckily nobody else was interested in my six foot closet rod and it is now happily hanging in my closet, be-jacketed and all.