How I Turned Hard Work on a DIY Project into a Winning Story, Literally
My second win at the Moth StorySLAM
Dear Duniyawaalo (People of the World),
There is something nerve-wracking about sitting in an auditorium with other storytellers, knowing that only ten names will be drawn from the Moth tote bag. It’s nerve-wracking because each subsequent storyteller picks the name of the next one to tell the story. You wait with bated breath, wondering if tonight is the night when you will be picked. On September 9, 2024, at the Lincoln Hall in Chicago, it was my night.
I got into storytelling in May 2024, and since then, I have found it to be an incredible way to connect with people. It is not just about sharing stories but about finding common ground through laughter, vulnerability, and honesty. I feel honored and blessed to have won twice in four attempts, and each time, I feel a deeper connection to the art of storytelling.
The night’s theme was “Elbow Grease”. As fate would have it, just like during my first Moth StorySLAM win, this time, too, my name was once again picked as the last storyteller from the tote bag.
A big thank you to the judges, the other storytellers, and everyone who came to watch and listen to our stories. It was an amazing night of laughter, support, and great stories.
Walking up to the microphone, I remembered something I heard once.
Hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard
I don’t know where I heard it, but it felt fitting, given the theme and journey I was about to share in my story.
And now, without further ado, I would like to share my winning story with you. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did telling it.
My Second Moth StorySLAM Winning Story
To all those who think anything can be fixed with a duct tape and a YouTube tutorial, good evening and welcome!
My name is Raj. I come from the vibrant city of Mumbai, where the weather is so hot and humid that even trees are looking for shade.
Growing up in India, I never had to worry about fixing things. We had 24x7 access to our friendly neighborhood Handyman. Whether it was a clogged drain or a spaceship landing in the neighborhood, Ratan Bhai could fix anything using just a screwdriver and a boatload of confidence.
Imagine my surprise when I moved to the US and asked my neighbor John who to call to fix a hole in my drywall. He casually handed me a list of things I needed and said I could get it all from this fancy store called Home Depot.
I was like, WOW. There is an actual place called Home Depot where people go to do what Rahan Bhai already did for my whole neighborhood. I am thinking, “Why does this store even exist? Why would anyone in their right mind do the actual work when you can, you know, just hire someone?”
It didn’t take me long to realize that fixing things yourself is like a religion here, and my neighbor John is like the Pope of Home Depot. The man built his own home—brick by brick, like a real-life Bob the Builder.
I, on the other hand, took a week and fell into depression trying to assemble IKEA furniture.
Every time my wife needed something fixed, she would call John. Because deep down, she knew that when it came to fixing things, I was as useless as my male nipples during sex.
When the time came to put our house on the Market, my wife, feeling inspired by John, decided, on her own, that WE should rip our carpet and put in laminate flooring. I thought, “This will surely be the end of our marriage.” But before I could say anything, Mr. John, the Pope, said, “Oh, laminate flooring? It’s a piece of cake. It’s just snapping planks together. Your husband can easily do it”
I am like, What? Do I look like someone who can do it? This body is not designed for hard labor.
Now, call it male ego or just plain delusion, but I said, “If John can do it, I can do it. How hard can it be?” Spoiler alert: Very hard.
We finally started the work. I thought John was right—it’s just snapping planks together. Plus, using the Table Saw to cut the planks was oddly satisfying and, if I am being honest, mildly erotic, too. My wife felt the same way, and seeing me using the Table Saw turned my wife on so much that she just gave me THAT look and said, "Let’s go!"
It was all fun and games until we reached the corners. Nobody told me I would need a PhD in geometry for this. The next thing I know, I am calculating angles like I am preparing to launch a rocket to Mars. Needless to say, I messed up at the corners. I had to make repeat trips to Home Depot, with pictures, to get some guidance on how to proceed. I have made more trips to Home Depot than John did, building his entire house.
What was supposed to take two weeks took me two months—two months of blood, sweat, and definitely tears. But I did it. I put the last plank down and thought, “I am done. I can now rest in peace!”
Or so I thought…
I didn’t realize that I was about to experience my worst nightmares.
Whenever I walked into the living room, all I could see were the small mistakes I made everywhere. This plank is a little crooked, a little uneven, or those two corners are messed up. My wife is totally relaxed watching TV while I stare at the floor like a man haunted by ghosts of the flooring's past. The funny thing is no one notices them except me.
I even asked my friends, “Do you see any mistakes?” They would say, “No, everything looks fine!”. I was going crazy. How could they not see it? The mistakes are screaming at me.
Finally, we put the house on the market, and I was convinced no one would buy it with all the flooring mistakes. The realtor walked in and said, “Wow, who did this flooring? It’s amazing!” In my mind, I was like, “Are you blind? Did you not see the crime scene I left in the corners?”
But guess what? We ended up renting it out, and I am grateful to my wife for dealing with the tenants. Honestly, the best part of this whole thing is I never have to see those mistakes again.
Looking back, I am glad I did it. It was a good life lesson. I learned something important about myself. I learned that I am never going to do this ever again.
Because, friends, this body, and now this mind, is not designed for hard labor.
❤️ Rajneesh