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THIS BRINGS YOU CHAPTER V in the continuing saga of my quest, the tale of which is getting more than a bit tedious. Consequently, I will skip right over Chapter III, in which I spend an exhaustive forty-five minutes at Farmer's Supply in a tiny office with three desks, watching a store manager strive ever so relentlessly to search out the illusive faucet knob for me via catalog and computer. In that situation, the computer was the tortoise and the catalog was the hare, although neither made it to the finish line and the speed of the tortoise was excruciating to watch.

Somewhere between Chapter III and IV, I get a call from the tenant, inquiring of me just when I plan on getting his faucet fixed. He's getting married this weekend, after all!

Chapter IV, in brief, picks up the next day with a quick jaunt back to Wienstein's for directions to the Centerville Tru-value. Mindless of the fact that it is Wiener Wednesday, I can't tell you how tickled I am, Dear Reader, when I enter the store, to see all the real plumbers gathered round the roaster.

With directions firmly in my head, I drive all the way across the city to Centerville and every traffic light is green, which I see as a very good omen. Except wait, maybe that is the good luck of the day and I've now exhausted my supply! Well, here I am, and the helpful young man examining all the knobs with me urges me to buy one, or even two or three. "Just return them," he shrugs, "if they don't fit." I have a little debate with myself, but no! There will be no long return trip, and besides, none look at all promising. The stay was brief.

Chapter V begins just as I think the story's reached its conclusion. I'm on my way home to call a real plumber and order a whole new faucet to be installed in time for the groom to wash his face before the wedding.

It's as I head down the road, a different route than the way I came, it hits me. The Lowe's Store is just ahead. I'll be passing right by. I hesitate. What are the chances? Zero to none? This quest has ceased to be an interesting challenge. In fact, I'm quite sick of it! (As you may well be, too, my Dear Reader.) But I enter and head for the plumbing desk. Yes, they have a plumbing desk, I'm told when I stop at customer service.

Mark is the man for me and he's friendly and nice-looking with a little gray in his hair. He doesn't claim to be a plumber, but he escorts me to the knobs, where we hobnob for a while before coming to the conclusion that what I need is definitely not there. Back at the desk, Mark drags out fat catalogs. Geez, have I not already seen every plumbing catalog that exists?! And shouldn't they be an anachronism, already? Hopefully, I ask, "Isn't this stuff on the internet?!"

But Mark says no, that's not the case with these replacement parts, and we pore over the pages.
Suddenly Mark says, "Here we go! This one looks like it could be the one," he singles out one of the sketches and studies it intently. "Hmm. No measurements listed though." He searches for the phone number, ready to call the company, and it turns out to be one of those cases where the phone number is spelled out with letters. "Oh, this drives me crazy!" Mark grabs a note pad, studies the phone and carefully translates into numbers before dialing. "My wife can tell you-- it's a pet peeve of mine!" He waits a few moments with the phone to his ear, and then mouths to me, "They're saying it'll be a long wait."

I wander off to look at the faucets again and come back about ten minutes later as he is making arrangements to have the knob shipped. Turns out he has made a total of three calls, but triumphantly informs me he's found the right one! "It'll be five dollars," he says. "You don't even have to pay shipping." He records all the specifics and gives me a paper to take to the front desk, where I will pick up the knob after notification that they've received it.

I'm in a daze. Can it be true?! Just when I'd given up hope! As I turn to go, he remembers something, "They told me there is ONE...it's in Iowa."

"Hunh?" I do an about-face. "ONE!? Do you mean, like, one manufacturing plant? Or...only one place to obtain these?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Just ONE knob. They searched the country and found it in Iowa, the one they're shipping. But it's the ONLY one!"

"Really?! I'm getting the ONLY ONE?" I walk slowly to the front of the store, mulling over this astonishing fact. Finding this ONE knob? Surely it was meant to be!



(there's more...)

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