It's sad. I just called to make an appointment with the man who has tuned our piano for over 40 years. He told me about his chronic pain, tiredness, mobility problems and depression, difficulties he said were unrelated to his bout with cancer some years ago. He would really have liked nothing better than to tune our piano, but he had no choice but to refer me to a colleague. I've already left the new guy a voice-mail message, but I hope our friend can return to work one day.
I'll never forget the day when "Marty" opened his kit and spread his tools out on the floor. Wilbur, our pug, rocketed into the room to sniff at the tools. Marty looked both alarmed and annoyed. He started to say something, but then he remembered that the pesky pug was the customer's "baby."
"That dog is certainly --" he began, testily. He paused and searched for a kinder, gentler word.
"Curious," he finally said.
I'll never forget the day when "Marty" opened his kit and spread his tools out on the floor. Wilbur, our pug, rocketed into the room to sniff at the tools. Marty looked both alarmed and annoyed. He started to say something, but then he remembered that the pesky pug was the customer's "baby."
"That dog is certainly --" he began, testily. He paused and searched for a kinder, gentler word.
"Curious," he finally said.
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