Always Ask Questions

As I’m sure a lot of you know, you can find some great deals and items on secondary marketplaces. A little while ago, someone sent me a link with an ad for a set of freight rollers. Here at My Father’s World, we move a lot of freight in many different ways. We have rollers set up for different things in a couple of places to more easily move product from one area to another. One of these is an expandable set. This expandable set works kind of like an accordion; it pushes together or pulls apart to better fit in the area that you need it in. These sets can be somewhat expensive, so when this one came across my desk at a very cheap price, I jumped at the chance to get it for us.

The provided ad had pictures so that I could see the item, and it was in great shape. It looked to be sitting outside of a larger metal building, so I assumed that this was a warehouse for a business of some sort. I reached out to the person in the ad and agreed on the price and a time for pickup. Now this would’ve been a great time to ask some clarifying questions, like where it is located and how hard it is to get there, and how heavy it is and whether someone would be there to help me load it. But why do that? I mean, I can see with my own eyes that everything looks good and there is nothing to worry about. This is a good place for you to note my sarcasm.

So, the next morning I’m ready to leave for my little adventure. I’ve entered the address into my truck’s navigation system and see that I’m about an hour and forty minutes away. No big deal; all is good. What could possibly go wrong? Me being me, I didn’t even look at the route or where all it would take me. I mean, I’m always up for a good road trip. Well, this was a road trip, to say the least, and my navigation system was being very optimistic about my arrival time.

I head out, and the first part of the trip is interstate—nice, easy travel. No big deal. Then Mr. Navigation tells me to get off on a certain exit and turn right. This began more than an hour of turns, back highways, gravel roads, and finally, a barely passable private drive. I have lived in Missouri my whole life and have seen what I thought to be a considerable portion of the state. But I have never seen or been to this place, and now that I have returned, I don’t think I could get back there or even find it on the map.

Now, if that had been the end of this little trek to nowhere, it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But now we get to the latter part of my not asking clarifying questions: how big is it, and do you have someone to help load it? I have now arrived at this destination, and there is no large warehouse or business of any kind—simply a small home and a small white shed with the rollers sitting outside of it. Not a business or somewhere with a loading dock. I knock on the door, and a very sweet older lady answers and confirms I’m in the right place and points to where the item sits. Then she, with all of her knowledge, asks the questions that were much more important for me to have asked before I left: “Did you bring someone to help load it?”

In all the time we’ve had our set at My Father’s World, I’ve never had to pick it up—only roll it across the floor. So I really had no idea how much this thing weighs, but hey! I’m a big guy; I got this. So I confidently say, “No, but I’ll be OK.” I pay her the agreed-upon money, then back my truck up to the rollers. Now, the key point of benefit for these rollers is the expandable part—but not when you’re trying to load it. I spent the next 45 minutes to an hour trying to get that thing in the truck. Each time I would be making progress, it would start expanding and make it impossible to handle. By this time, I am sweating through and drenching my shirt, and I’m pretty sure I’m on the verge of some sort of cardiac event—possibly even death.

In the end, I had it strapped and bound in three different places before I could finally get it to stand on its end and then let it fall into the bed of my truck. The silly thing was so large that I couldn’t even close the tailgate of my truck. I had to take two straps off of the rollers and strap it into the truck for travel. Not sure why I was worried about that—I mean, this thing seemed to weigh so much that not even the wind from an F5 tornado would’ve budged it. After getting this completed and making my way back to some sort of civilization and a gas station, I stopped and went inside to get a drink to replenish the gallon of fluids I’m sure I lost in this process. Thankfully, God shone His grace down on me, and the station had a two-for-one deal on 20 oz. soda. After the ordeal I had just survived, a single 20 oz. was not going to suffice, as it was gone before I got back to the truck.

So, all of this to say, “I learned another hard lesson in my life.” Always ask questions and have all the information that you need before you set out to accomplish something.