Dust & Divine
By Luke Norsworthy
When I was in grad school, I did a little
personal training as a side job. I had
a friend and client named David, a
successful antiques salesman, interior
decorator, and smoker.
Often, he would complete a running
workout on the track, and before he
had even gotten to his Cadillac in the
parking lot, he would light up a cigarette.
This always made me wonder where he
was hiding the cigarettes during the
workout. Early on I knew that David
wasn’t going to win any marathons, but
I got a little work and he burned some
calories and Marlboros, making both of
us happy with the arrangement.
On occasion I would help him with other
projects. One time I was helping David
with an installation in a customer’s
home, which is a nice way of saying
I was carrying in really expensive
furniture. Having just purchased a
48 • Solutions
bookshelf for my home from Target,
I was particularly curious about the
extremely heavy wooden bookshelf
that I carried. Usually, I didn’t care
about the price of fine furniture, since
only people in a tax bracket I will never
inhabit could afford it, but alas I asked
the question.
“How much is this shelf?”
“Five.”
“Five hundred?”
“No. Thousand.”
Having just spent thirty dollars on
my bookshelf, I didn’t see with my
uneducated eye why someone would
pay that much for a bookshelf. The
piece actually looked inferior to the
perfection of my composite wood
bookshelf.