Have nail gun, will work on farm

Guest blogger: husband
Little woman is watching HGTV when one of the characters uses two special words in a sentence, nail and gun.  I perked up and angled myself to see what was going on.  Again, normally I would ignore the ravings of these programs (“do THIS by yourself, do THAT by yourself) but hearing the combination of two manly words, I had to find out more.  Nail Gun.  There, on the big screen TV was some guy nailing some kind of piece of wood to another kind of wood thing.  WITHOUT a HAMMER.  Instantly, I needed one.  Besides, my hammer was faulty.  The flat part of it kept on missing the top of the nail thing, or hit it at some stupid angle so the nail wouldn’t work.  So I returned it. It could have been the nails, so I returned them as well.  No sense taking a chance.  Those things are dangerous.  But "Nail Gun" -- they were talking my language now.  I could see me in the middle of the summer, driving around the vast back yard on my recently waxed John Deere tractor, stopping now and then to reattach fallen tree limbs with my NAIL GUN.  But remember kids, safety first.  Take the headphones from the iPod off before you disembark from the tractor.  We don’t want any neck sprains.
 
A NAIL GUN.  I want this.  I need this!  Damn it – I deserve this. So I have decided that there needs to be a nail gun as part of my home owner tool arsenal.  The next day, the little woman goes to the office, the coast is clear. I don my Nikes and Batman T shirt so I'll blend in with our new neighbor.
 
I hop into the Car and head to town.  I thought that for this adventure I would stay closer to home, you know, learn the local customs, get to know my neighbors, that kind of thing.  I decide to go to Wogan’s.  It is the local hardware/pharmacy/Hallmark gift shop with the best gas prices in town.  I parked and got out of the car.  While locking it I accidentally hit the alarm button on the key fob.  After 5 minutes I figured out how to turn off the alarm. Luckily, no one was laughing and pointing, or else they might license me for the nail gun I'd come to buy.
 
I enter the store and realize the two cashiers had been watching me as i entered. I guess I was the first customer of the day.  I pass by the greeting cards, the Easter display, clearance sale Valentine’s Day cards, and the frozen foods section -- arriving at last to the hardware section.  Not to seem too eager, I wander around the isles looking at different products and nod sagely to myself with a, “ah, it’s good to know where I can get one of those” looks.  Eventually a clerk comes over to see if I need some help.
 
“I need a nail gun” I say with authority.  The clerk gives me the once over, noticing my Nikes and Batman T shirt, and realizes he will probably need some help with this sale.  So he goes in back and gets a person who I can only assume is the manager and they both return.  Once again I say in my most confident voice, “I need a nail gun.”  The two employees look at each other and the original one grins at the manager and starts walking away.  If I didn’t know better, I would swear I heard him giggling over the muzak.  Now the sales process begins, and I am ready.  I am in my element.
 
The other guy/manager asks, “Do you want pneumatic or cordless?”  He is on the offensive right away.  I take a moment (remember, in a sales deal, silence is your friend.  It shows you are contemplating the opponent’s move and getting ready to counter strike.  Very similar to Sun Tzu’s Art of War) and confidently reply, “Yes.”  And so it begins. 
 
I won’t bore you all with the negotiation strategies, fall back zones, or body language observations, but let’s just say that I only paid about 18% over what the NAIL GUN was advertised for.  Since I nailed that deal, I went for the accessories.  A couple of notes for those new to Nail Gun buying:  First, they don’t make holsters for them.  Second, they are called nails, not bullets.
 
Now for those of my readers who may remember our last suburban experience, I pretty much showed my cards when I asked the John Deere sales guy if they offered a class to learn how to use the tractor.  Not this time.  I frequently learn from my mistakes.  Finally, at the register I looked the manager in the eyes (by now his face was red and his eyes were tearing, especially when he looked at my Nikes -- perhaps the bright neon green trim hurt eyes) and asked him where the range was.  “Range?” he queried.  “Yes,” I said firmly, “I need to get used to this ‘nail gun’ before I bring it home.  So where is the gun range?”  The manager suddenly started coughing while trying to speak. I didn’t get an answer but nevertheless, I now have this shiny new cordless nail gun.  Yep, I know the lingo.  Now The little woman has me going around the house pulling the nails out of everywhere I put them in with the nail gun.  Apparently you are supposed to use this tool only to attach one form of wood to another and going around the house mindlessly nailing things is not the proper use for it.  Oh, FYI.  Nail guns don’t work on glass; maybe I need one of those pneumatic ones for that kind of work.
 
Next purchase:  Night vision goggles