I had been meaning to replace the lock on the garage door for some time, and having purchased new bicycles, we suddenly had something in the garage worth stealing. The one challenge: the door wasn't standard by any means. I'm not sure how it got there, but it was an old, converted Dutch door, 2 3/8 inches thick. Like most everything else around the house, non-standard.
So it was off to Home Depot to get a deadbolt. I knew roughly what I wanted, but it wasn't clear to me whether the mechanism would accommodate a door so thick. I wasn't having much luck finding someone who worked there. I looked around the veldt, hoping to find signs that a watering hole was nearby - surely they would gather there. Eventually I trapped an orange-aproned gazelle near the door and window department. I explained how thick the door was, but he said that wouldn't be a problem. "There's an adjustment on the mechanism, you won't have a problem," he said. I thanked him and he leaped away.
I started out the next morning, thinking that it would probably take a couple of hours to get it done. I took the deadbolt out of the packaging, read through the directions. These kits come with a little template that shows you exactly where you need to drill. I had done this before, and still had the hole saw attachment for my drill. Things went relatively smoothly: you drill a hole through the door, you drill another hole from the edge of the door, you slide the deadbolt into place, and you put the two sides of the deadbolt into place and bolt them together with a pair of screws.
Except that the screws didn't reach. I measured the screws, and they were exactly 2 3/8 inches long. Astute readers may recall that this matches the thickness of the door.
I went back to the Depot. It was busier, but the orange aprons were still elusive. I flagged down a guy who looked barely old enough to drive himself to work, and explained the problem. He took the screws from me, glanced at them for a second, and radioed for help. Someone answered his call and suggested he just look for longer screws. I'm not sure if he even checked to see if I was following him as he started to walk away.
By the screws, an older Depot employee approached. I felt some sense of relief: surely this guy would know what do to. And with his white beard, he looked a little like Santa Claus.
He wasn't. When I explained the problem, he said there was nothing he could do to help. They don't make deadbolts for doors that thick, nor do they stock longer versions of the bolts. If anything, he looked annoyed that I was taking up his time with my inane question. Feeling combative, I asked him why another employee would've told me that the deadbolt would work - Bad Santa suggested that I had confused the backset (how far the deadbolt is from the edge of the door) with the thickness of the door. I assured him that I was fairly confident I had measured the edge. Disgusted, I left.
And headed straight for the Ace Hardware store up the street. They greeted me when I walked in the door, and directed me toward the back of the store. I spied an ancient man hunched over the counter in the back, but before I made it to him, I was intercepted by a 50-ish guy who was annoyingly helpful. He led me to their selection of deadbolts, then to their collection of screws and bolts - so in 30 seconds, he accomplished what had taken 5 minutes and two guys at Home Depot. He shook his head and suggested that one of the guys in the back could help.
I headed back to the counter, and made it to the old guy. Up close, he was even older than I had first thought. Clearly this guy had been around before deadbolts were even invented. I explained my problem, and he said I should talk to Arnie, who was "good with locks."
I headed back toward the front, and asked where Arnie might be. "He's helping a customer, but he should be right back in." I saw some young guy come back through the door, and figured they must've sent the young guy out to help Arnie carry something heavy. The young guy spoke briefly to a cashier, then headed my way. As he got close, I read his name tag and deflated a bit.
But Arnie knew what was up. "What you need," he said, "is a couple of hex nuts." Sure enough, they were a good fit, and the length looked to be right. They set me back $1.10 plus tax, and I was on my way.
Obviously, I had some things to learn about equating age and experience. And a reminder about the difference between the local hardware store and the behemoth that fills a city block. The next time I have a purchase to make - whether I have a question about it or not - I'm going to go to Ace first.
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