Maple City Hobbies

My boys and I stopped in on a FIrst Friday’s event. My boys had some cash burning a hole in their pocket, and had an incredibly painful time deciding what they wanted, as they kept looking at models out of their price range. The gentleman behind the counter, with a twinkle in his eye said «I think we can make this work», and proceed to generously discount the models they wanted so they could afford them, and threw in some balsa wood gliders for good measure!
They may have a limited selection, but this guy’s heart totally impressed me and I wish them nothing but the best!

Long story short: Unhelpful staff and meager selection.
Picture it with me (this is sort of like one of those «Choose Your Own Adventure Things» except it really happened, you have no choice in what to do next, and there are no ghosts or aliens or wizards or anything. So actually it’s really nothing like «Choose Your Own Adventure.» Just forget I said that):
Loping along the beautifully-​restored downtown area of Goshen, you peek into various windows, delighted to see this town beginning to come back to life with so many neat shops, restaurants and hipster magnets. But you keep walking. You have a destination. There IS something you came here specifically for.
The hobby shop. That’s right. You’re trying something new. Expanding your horizons. And why not? You can’t sit at home all day. Eventually, you must emerge from your chrysalis and take flight under your own power.
You’re never been in this hobby shop before. In fact, you only found it because they have a website that makes them look like their store is well-​stocked and staffed with the sort of people who wouldn’t point and laugh if you were a first-​time model builder and didn’t yet completely grasp the difference between lacquer and enamel. You drove a solid twenty-​minutes through lunchtime-​in-​Goshen-​holy-​shit traffic levels in order to get here. You very nearly kill a defenseless old man when he suddenly pops out of the alleyway while you are driving along said alley. You park in one of the public parking lots next to a van who is ON THE LINE and you have to do that weird sort of shimmy to get out of your car without touching the van. But finally. You’re in front of Maple City Hobbies. Then, with a mixture of anticipation and muted excitement, you enter.
What is — what is this? This can’t be it, can it? What — I don’t even — ok. Let’s take a deep breath. I know it looks like no one has bothered to stock (or dust) the shelves since 1983, but let’s keep an open mind. Maybe it’s one of those diamond in the rough type places. Let’s ask that friendly employee, a morose looking dude in a dirty t-​shirt sitting behind a counter with his eyes glued to a laptop screen.
«Excuse me?» you call. No answer. «Uh — excuse me, can you tell me where your model paints are?»
He looks up for a moment with dull eyes and points to the next row with an apathetic flick of his finger, and then goes back to his computer.
You walk over and look at said model paint offerings. You stare at it for a moment. Then you stare at your list — the one you so optimistically made for yourself not an hour before — and then look back at the paint rack. Cement. Glue. You need adhesive. That’s number one. All right. They’ve got a few different varieties. You’re loathe to touch them though, because the packages are bent, dirty and dusty. The graphics on the package also look very old, and you wonder how old the items are and if you have the right to remove such an archaeological artifact. No matter. You find the one you need. Excellent. Let’s move onto primer.
They have primer. You THINK it’s primer. But it is not spray primer, which is what you need. You look through the shelf, hoping beyond hope. But no. You throw a furtive glance back at the employee, who has offered no help despite your «I’m-new-at-this-vibe» which simultaneously makes you feel righteously indignant («Hey! I’m willing to drop quite a bit of money here and everybody is new at something SOMETIME, and anyway, I’ve got a LIST, it’s not like I came in here to bug him about stuff I should have researched!») and a bit like you feel when you have to ask the IT guy a question you know is stupid («God, I can’t ask anything, he probably hates people like me, who are new to this and this is the first time they’ve bought model paint and oh god I feel so INSECURE all of a sudden!»).
So you move on to the next item on your list. White spray enamel paint. All right. They don’t have that. How can they not have that. They have ivory. Who the hell wants ivory. All the labels on the spray bottles are ripped and the tops are dusty. You take a break and look around you — there are a few boxes behind you — models of cars and boats and things — and they have smushed boxes, are dusty, and it just looks very… sad.
They don’t have masking tape for models either. When you ask the doleful man behind the desk if they have tape, you get a grunt and, «If it isn’t on the shelf, we don’t have it» which didn’t really answer your question of, «Do you have tape?» You look down at your glue. You think of your arduous journey to get here. You look back on your conscious decision to support a small local business rather than order your supplies from a large online conglomerate. Then you remember: capitalism, assholes. Choose with your wallet.
You set the glue down and blow that Popsicle stand.
will be seeing you shortly.