“Wah, you must have bought this when policemen still wore shorts”, said the lady at the lighting shop as she asked for my permission to dismantle some more of the tiffany lamp I brought in for her to fix.
As took the base off, the debris from inside the lamp fell out and dirtied her table, and I felt bad, until she told me it would cost around $100 to fix up the lamp and bring it into the 21st century.
I’m not complaining too much, because it’s a really nice lamp my mother bought in San Francisco in 1979 or 1980, and it hasn’t worked properly since. (Probably because we didn’t know the difference between AC and DC, and we probably melted the fuse or something).
And this lady’s shop was only like the seventh or eighth I walked into on Balestier Road, and the only one whose occupants didn’t say, “No, we don’t do repair. Only sell. Try other shop. Sorry”.
Then again, it was quite likely she knew how to fix this lamp, because her shop had several similar lamps, although she said, “Those different. All from China, not brass one”.
The lamp and some other stuff in the house should be ready by end of next week. Yay!
