Cranberry Saws

Story Sent in by Tina:

My high school sweetheart was John and he and I decided to try and stay together when we went off to college at opposite sides of the country. I was really looking forward to Thanksgiving as I'd be seeing my family and I'd be seeing him for the first time since we went away.

John was in some intro architecture classes that included a woodworking course. He told me that he looked forward to showing me some of his work in person. I was just excited to see him.

We both arrived back home early in the week and spent a lot of time catching up. On Thanksgiving day, we went to my parents' house early to help my folks cook and set up for the meal before the rest of the family came by.

When my mother and I were in the kitchen, John came in to tell us that my family's wooden dining room table was a bit off-balance and rocking back and forth a little. He said he knew a way to fix it permanently and asked if he could borrow my father's hacksaw for the job. I trusted him and so did my parents, so I brought him a hacksaw from my garage and he set to work on the table while Mom and I continued in the kitchen.

John was in the dining room for a long time but finally returned to the kitchen and said that he was done with the project. I went in to take a look at his handiwork.

What John had effectively done was sawed down all four legs of the table to such an extent that the table was literally half as tall as it used to be. It was slightly above knee-height.

"What did you do?" I said.

"The legs were faulty. The table was unstable. I fixed it, but you might need to raise the table up a little bit for the meal."

"You think? We can't eat here!" I yelled.

My mother came in and screamed. My father ran downstairs and said to John, "Oh my God! What did you do to the table?"

John clapped his hands to his head and yelled, "I can't take it anymore!" and with a yell ran pell-mell out the front door.

My mother was nearly in hysterics. My father consoled her, saying that he'd find a way to raise the table. Thanks to some quick thinking and some two-by-fours Dad kept in the garage, we had a serviceable table on which to eat.

I didn't ask my folks, but I guessed that they weren't in the mood to invite John back for dinner. I decided to wait and see if he'd return. He never did. When next I checked, he had blocked me on Facebook. I wrote him a brief email to ask him to reach out to me, but he never replied. The Thanksgiving incident was the last time I've ever seen him.


  1. He's probably afraid you'll tell him he needs to pay for the table.

  2. I'm pretty sure this was a plot to an episode of Dharma and Greg. Mostly. Who takes it into their head that you would ever take that much off without or take any off without even measuring?

  3. Fun fact: The vast majority of architecture majors end up dropping out after first year. And judging by what a moron your ex is (who doesn't know that they can't take that much off table legs?!) he was probably in that number.


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