shrine clubbing

August 25, 2005 – 10:39 pm

the place, it’s nice. has everything we’d listed as a priority, actually. given our joint desire to hop the pond — and soon — it seemed best to buy something flippable … an albatross to hang about our necks with at least a rapidly aggregating resale value. true, all the other staid, trimless 40s houses in the neighborhood might think our blue-shuttered lady is a bit easy. a quick hopper, you know. no suitors turned down, a fling with every hundred thou that walks down the street. works for us, though. perfect pad for the moment, with her hardwoods inside, mostly remodeled walls, wiring, ceilings, fixtures, etc. a jacuzzi tub. a shady deck. a fresh roof and a cadre of gleaming vinyl windows.

so we move in, and i cart over the isomac still piping hot, yank her from the original packaging and shove her on the counter. she doesn’t fit. cabinets too low. heh. i was joking when i said earlier that there was room for an espresso cart in this place. really. but we went right to work. the peroxide cypriot donated a flimsy cabinet, the brother (second of eight) came down from chicago for the weekend, and we set about doing an espresso bar on the cheap. and i do mean cheap.

lessee, we just about had the spray paint and multi-layered baby blue blasted off the front when the belt sander fried itself (it wasn’t even mine). the usual “nah, don’t worry about it,” followed by the, “yeah right, dude, i totally owe you one,” ensued. question is, can i float three digits for a replacement? the thought hurts, but i must. and here i’d been eyeballing a five-piece ryobi set on wicked sale right down the aisle. 18 volts, people! a mere $150 for the lot of it! ah, well. i hear black and decker makes a filth-line of belt sanders dressed in the rugged and garish orange that screams “just TRY me on those baseball spikes,” but actually whimpers when you turn it on. floss-driven and all.

finished roughing it up by hand. smoothed the top. oiled it a nice, moody walnut. but the wood putty, she no look so good. i had bought the generic putty beige filler, which did not come CLOSE to matching the stained wood. made the bartop look like it was growing soul-eating mushrooms from within. so off to that bastion of garish manly orange-ness for some cheap corner trim, new door hardware and a sheet of pale pine. soemwhere the brother got the fantastic idea to play with a blow torch. this blogger being a less than totally manly blogger, however, all we had to wave around was creme brulee scorcher. i know: that’s like shopping for a mac g4 and settling — just until tax returns! — for the pocket digital organizer that came with your u.s. news and world report subscription. ah, well.

sat around heating up the bottom of an espresso glass. cracked it to pieces right in front of my face. well, then. we’ll cheat. found sundry sized metal rings from old ball canning jars and what-not and heated them to glowing. burned the rings randomly into the pale-pine bartop to simulate mugs having been distractedly set all over the place. then: epoxy! the most potentially nefarious finishing substance on the market today. oh, what poe could have done with fast-drying pools of mucus-like epoxy boasting the hardened thickness of 60 coats of poly!

but it’s shiny:

actually, we two-coated the epoxy — some cracks in the trim and other annoyances. it wipes quite nicely, really. here’s a better look at the countertop singeing.

and do i have a shot of the machinery in residence? absolutely not. the stuff had to dry for three days, and i was too busy shooting my brother grinding a good ethiopian harrar with a mortar and pestle. but that’s for tomorrow.