I drove to the industrial park, looking for the upholsterer. When I walked up to the front door, the sign said to use the back door, so I walked around the back, where the railroad tracks were, and located the entrance. I peered into a large room of men up to worktables, with pillows and couches and chairs scattered about, under construction. I saw what looked like a reception window way in the back, and timidly entered the shop. I spied a young man wearing a "South Park" shirt and asked, "Is Joel here?" "No, but you can talk to his dad." I approached the indicated man and asked the necessary question with dread: "Did Joel leave Jedi boots for Dustchick?"

And thus commenced my Tuesday.

(The boots kick ass, by the way.)