The Best Fuckin Ever

Our headlines are so often used purposely to lure potential readers to our blogs, but in this case, today, it’s not bait, it’s not meant to provoke or draw attention, no, it’s the simple, magnificent truth. Today I will write about The Best Fuckin Ever and I will do it with the biggest smile on my face, a grin I don’t often show or share.

Heartfelt joy! That could have been another headline but it wouldn’t have done it justice.

By now at least half of my readers are debating if I have lost the last of all my marbles, or if I might have been smoking something else than the cigarettes I have given up ten years ago. No worries, I still have some marbles left, and smoking -no matter what- is not an option.

Let me share the fuckin story, please.

A while back a young man contacted me, he had taken two old chairs home with him, that had been left behind at a location they were cleaning out.

“I was wondering if WE could bring them back to life,” he explained to me and when I looked at them I knew the pieces would be a challenge. But I like challenges, they keep me grounded, they keep me focused and they make sure I don’t lose my artsy touch.

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I love cowhides,” my customer informed me and he asked me to do my best.

My best! Sometimes I am not sure what that means. Am I my best when unleashed and given room to roam? Or am I at my best when I try to make someone’s vision a dream come true and I have to follow rules?

In this case, it was simple. I was asked to design something cowhide-like, for a young man who reminded me a lot at Zztop. A wild beard covered his face, and tattoos and facial piercings completed his overall look. He most certainly was not my usual clientele but we clicked, and I was hired and left do to my best.

“I trust you,” he said, and every time I hear that something inside me whispers, “Why?”

Real cowhides were not in the budget, so I tried to find fabric that would look good enough for the critical eye.

I found the material, started restaining the legs and arms in a reddish color called “spice” and quickly it all came together. The decorative nails, generally a brassy color called “French Natural” didn’t appeal to me, so I ordered some that looked a bit like copper. They were more expensive, but I thought they were worth it.

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The pickup date was delayed twice -by me. Once because I was called to work out of town, the second time I needed to postpone, because the nailheads hadn’t arrived in time.

He was fine with it, but not pleased. I could hear it in his voice, he and his girlfriend were eager to see the ‘new’ chairs.

Finally, we had a pickup date and when they walked into my workroom I heard the first “Wow” one of many that day. They both showed their surprise and shared their joy openly with me without hesitation. They were not holding back. They genuinely shared their feelings and I wasn’t prepared for it.

Some customers walk around the finished pieces like they are hoping to find something wrong with my work, others show me their approval and I hear words like “nice” or “good job” often and I appreciate it.

The young man sat down in the chair. His face, covered with the beard, didn’t give too much away, but his voice did.

“Wow,” he said again, a deep and loud WOW and he looked at his girlfriend, who shared his amazement. They are a cut couple, meant to be together as far as I can tell. They are honest people, there is no pretending, no masquerade, no holding back.

“I don’t recognize the chairs,” she said, which I took as a compliment as well. The man got up, walked a few steps, and then stood beside me. His arms went up and down in excitement.

“Excuse my language,” he said looking at the chairs again, “but this is fuckin awesome.“

I didn’t expect that at all. It was so heartfelt, it sounded so full of joy, so full of emotions. His voice revealed astonishment and happiness. “This was so worth it,” he said and now I could hear the smile.

I laughed out loud. I didn’t hold back either. I enjoyed this moment more than I can tell. Who would have thought that curse words would ever give me a feeling of accomplishment and pride, but they did.

This is fuckin awesome will be stuck in my mind as the best compliment for my work -ever.

It’s not just the cursing and the unusual wording, but the joy in the voice that came with it. What an unusual, unexpected gift he gave me.

That night I shared the story with my husband, who wished he could have witnessed it and now I am sharing it with all of you. Turns out I had to be 60 years old to experience the best fuckin ever ***giggle here***.

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The next day I thanked my customer for this special moment.

Joy! We all need to show it more often and share it openly. When I feel like clapping my hands like a little girl then I should do it. There is nothing wrong with it -ever.

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