No Tools Loaned
Bad Borrowers Who Wear Out Their Welcome
By Kevin Blumer
Photograpy: Kevin Blumer
Several weeks ago, I got a frantic call on my cell phone. It seems one of my neighbors was in a pickle.
“Hello Chris?”
“No, this is Kevin,” I replied.
He continued “Hey man, I need to borrow your engine hoist. It’s an emergency.”
“Well the engine hoist belongs to my dad, and it’s in another city. I can meet you over there and help you load it up,” I offered.
“I’ve got too much chrome in the back of my Durango, can’t you bring it to me?”
This was more than a little annoying. I had spent all day in front of the keyboard and was finally ready to go run errands and do other stuff. Now this guy wants me to drop everything and use my own vehicle to transport something bulky and awkward, and he wants me to do it on his “emergency” time table. Additionally, there are several rental businesses in the area, and it’s not as if they were all out of engine hoists to rent. In general, I like to be helpful so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and detoured my day to help him.
There was one problem. The engine hoist my dad owns is a home-brewed hoist that doesn’t fit together well. It’s very sturdy, but it’s a pain to use. Dad didn’t build it—he bought it from a friend. I decided to explore another option. I called a friend. “Hey Dan, one of my neighbors wants to borrow an engine hoist. My dad’s hoist is a pain to use. Is it OK if I lend him yours?” Dan replied “Do you trust this guy?” “Yeah,” I said. “Well then it’s OK with me,” Dan concluded.
Right now, I’m driving 4WD’s 2003 Toyota 4Runner. It’s a versatile vehicle, and by clearing out all the cargo and folding the second row of seats down, I had a space big enough to put Dan’s engine hoist inside and still close the rear hatch. It took two of us to load the thing. Have you ever hefted an engine hoist? They’re not light.
I delivered the hoist to my neighbor. He re-told his sob story, ending with a terse “thanks, dude” and a pledge to be done with the hoist in a few days.
A few days turned into a few weeks. At one point, the neighbor asked if tomorrow afternoon would be all right. That time came and went, but I didn’t sweat it, because Dan didn’t need the hoist right then, and the neighbor was doing the engine work at home where I could periodically pedal by and see that the hoist was still there.
Two days ago, my father-in-law was outside. “Hey Claude!” the neighbor hollered. “Tell Kevin he can come get the engine hoist!” I was inside (by the way I will have my own home in So Cal, just not yet) and was –ahem- indisposed right then. “The neighbor says you can come get the engine hoist,” Claude said through the door. “I can’t do it right now, would you mind telling him I’ll get it tomorrow?” I replied. Claude agreed and went down the street to make the request on my behalf. It turned out that the neighbor had rolled the engine hoist to the curb in front of his house for my “convenience.” What if I hadn’t been home? What if no one had been home? The hoist would’ve sat outside all day and possibly all night until someone else helped himself to it. At that point, I had no choice but to retrieve the hoist. Any thanks from the neighbor? Nope. Any offer to help load it up? Nope. Any offer of gas money? Negative. The hoist was just left on the street in front of the neighbor’s house.
There are some rules of borrowing etiquette. If you ask to borrow something, make sure you make it convenient for the lender to hand off the item. Don’t force your emergency on the lender. If you have to go beyond your projected timetable, let the lender know. If the loan goes way beyond the projected timetable, give the lender regular updates. Make every effort to use your own vehicle and muscle power to pick the item up. “I’ve got too much chrome in the back of my Durango” doesn’t cut it. Finally, when you return the item, do that at the lender’s convenience, too. Return the item in a secure fashion; don’t leave it out on the street. Finally, at the very least, say “thanks.” “Thanks, and here’s some gas money” is even better.
I’m not out to start a war with this guy. Life is too short, and it takes too much energy to have a long list of enemies. At the same time, unless something changes for the better, the next time this neighbor tells me he’s in dire straits and needs to borrow another tool, I’m gonna be way too busy. The welcome is worn out.