Plywood separates the men from the boys, even thin plywood. There is nothing more masculine than stomping around Home Depot, pushing a flat cart with a couple of slats of plywood laying across.
The chunky guy in the back does nothing but cut wood all day. You give him the measurements, he slides the wood into the machine and cuts away. You discuss different types of lumber. You suck in the sawdust. Walk out with your plywood, surrounded by dirty contractors, sweat covering their faces.
You are one with them.
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