Randy part Dos

Randy was the parts guy that got beat by a milk crate.  To give you a bit of a backstory, when he was in high school, he worked for a Deere dealership.  In the shop, changing oil, filters and basic hydraulics on 20,30, 40 & 50 series tractors.  He knew what he was doing.  Then he moved to the parts counter after high school.  He had a photographic mind and knew all of the part #s for those bad-ass series Deere tractors.  Then he went to work for a custom cutter.  He ran Deere combines.  He also knew how to work on those machines.

In Woodward, OK, it is more important to know about 20,30, 40 & 50 series tractors than it is new ones.  Why?  This is the part of the world where tractors go to die.  Clientele is mostly cowmen that need a good baler tractor, something to pull some wheat drills and it better have a loader on it for moving round bales.

The owner of the custom crew that Randy worked for was a Western customer.  I got wind that Randy had gotten pissed and quit.  I needed a parts guy, so I went on the hunt for him.

From an equipment dealer perspective, a person that knows how these machines work, knows the parts, knows the mechanics and can talk the lingo….well, that is what you call a unicorn.  Hard to find.

One day, Randy showed up to the dealership.  “Heard you are looking for me?”

I replied, “Yes.  In 2010, it is hard to track somebody that doesn’t own a cell phone.”

He then said, “I’m in the process of moving to Fargo.  Here’s a number to reach me on.  I’ll be ready for some work in about 2 weeks.”

So, a week later, I went on a unicorn hunt.  No answer.  Next day, no answer.  Next day, no answer.  Now, I went to Fargo and started driving the streets.  Somebody told me that a couple of new families moved into trailer houses by the school.  I stopped at the first one and knocked on the door.  A young lady with a passle of diapered kids answered the door.

“Nope, no Randy here.  Might check next door.  They just moved in and they are loud.”

Check I did.  No answer. But as I was getting back in my pickup, Randy crawled out from under the trailer house.

I asked, “Working on some plumbing.”

“Nope, just hooking up a shitter line.”     Oh, ok.

Me–“What about that # you gave me?”

Him–“That’s my wife’s # and she left me.  I ain’t got no phone.”

We talked shop and agreed to terms.  He would start on Monday.  I was pumped to have this dude coming to work for us.

Well, that is enough back story for now.  Check the next post for more.

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