“Can I borrow a…”

I recall being very alarmed at how far the door spring traveled.

As a teenager in my first job at a dealer, I was working on a small S-10 truck that needed door hinge pin bushings. I levered that door spring out of its perch with a slotted screwdriver like a goon and watched it fly across the shop like a comet. Of course, I had given no thought to any type of eye protection or the rather critical task of reinserting that spring. One of the older wrenches was excellent about keeping an eye on me. A bit later as I struggled on the reassembly portion of the job, he asked me if I owned a door spring compressor.

I did not. I realized my folly and as I opened my mouth, he extended his hand and proffered his well-worn compressor tool. A few minutes later, I had the spring in place and the door operating as The General intended. A few days after that, I owned my own door spring compressor.

I think about Rob a lot. I haven’t seen him in decades. I don’t even know if he’s alive. But he committed an act of altruism that’s forever changed me.

Is it better to lend a hand, or keep a tool from suffering damage? Photo: Lemmy.

Should you lend a tool?

I don’t know. Everyone has an opinion on this. Had Rob never helped me, my answer would be a flat, “no.” But he altered my perception forever. Now when asked this question, I run through a mental checklist of questions.

Am I going to get this tool back? If it’s a known solid buddy, sure, you know how to get into the shop. Take whatever you need even if I’m not there. If it’s likely it’ll be awhile before I see it again, maybe you can have my backup tool for a bit. If I’m not likely to get it back at all, well… we’re probably not friends. You’re a stranger and that’s a no.

How will I get it back? Clean and shiny? Sure, take it. That’s usually the same person who’s gonna get it back to me fast and maybe pair it with a little plate of cookies or brownies that came out of the oven. Dirty? No big deal, I can give it a quick wipe. Broken? Ugh. Not a problem, I guess. (I’d like it if you would offer to replace it! I won’t take you up on it, but please make the offer.)

Broken and you didn’t tell me? This is an unforgivable offense. Just like I told my son years ago when he ran me out of a chemical and tried to leave money on the workbench: it’s not about the money. I can make more money. (That’s what the tools are for!) I cannot make more time. If my one-man brake bleeder is broken and I discover at it 1 a.m. in an empty shop, I’m dead in the water. (Note to same son: or if there is an empty hole where my brake fluid used to be. Same issue.)

Does this borrower know how to use the tool? First, I consider safety. I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Then I consider skill level: is the vehicle going to get fixed? Or even …broken-er? As a subquestion, if it ends up more broken-ed, will I be the person who has to bail out the borrower? Finally, I consider my tool. I know a few folks who will use any tool within reach as a prybar, punch, or chisel, so if it’s an item that isn’t easily replaced, I may take pause.

Are you doing this for a living? If not, when is the next hole in my schedule? If I am denying a requester the tool, I often provide my “trying to be nice” backup: you can come here with your vehicle and use my tool if it’s not likely to become stranded on my lift, or I will accompany my tool to your work area, use it, and leave. For obvious reasons, I don’t like these options much, and that’s intentional: I’m trying to force myself to lend the tool.

If someone asks me for help, I can only assume it is needed. Photo: Lemmy.

Why?

Rob taught me a lesson, and so did this other guy I really admire. He was a tradesman, too. None of that dude’s four biographers mentioned him lending out his adze or chisel ever, but the book about the fella was pretty clear: we’re supposed to be helping those around us.

I get all the arguments on why lending tools out is bad practice. I fully understand the guy in the bay across from you who needs your tool to complete a job that you could have done (and he could not) is competition. But I’ll tell you what: I never failed to help push a no crank/no start car in for Rob even on the coldest days, and if I ever saw him loosening lug nuts on the wheels, I would mosey over and try to knock out his rotation for him. He didn’t owe me anything, but he created a feeling of indebtedness I tried to repay and both of us wound up better for it.

That’s where I stand on it letting tools leave, albeit a little begrudgingly. Howsabout you?