Matt Coddington
Tool Time, Revisited: A Riveting Column
Imagine a bolt, a nut, and a wrench. They are conscious and have formed a threesome, a tool ménage à trois. In short: they have tool sex. All three are involved in the screwing.
One morning the three met up and, seeing two pieces of morning wood, decided they had to screw them.
The only way to join the planks together was tool sex. They were shy with one another at first, and the bolt, embarrassed, pointed out that he needed an opening, a hole, before he could do his work and it had to be just right: neither too big nor too small. No friction or binding could occur, he said, or it would prevent him from being fully inserted. He had to go deep, to make it all the way through both pieces of wood to the other side.
But they didn’t have the right kind of hole. Sheepishly, they called in the big gun – the drill, a mercenary with a reputation for creating openings where there were none.
All he required was a charged battery, a sharp drill bit, and of course, the right amount of lubrication. The wood shuddered as the drill thrust through it, and the canal was ready. The bolt, tentatively at first, inserted, then pushed inward, initiating the mating process. In went the bolt, further and further, fully inserting himself and eventually sticking out the other side. The drill had done his work well: there was no friction or binding and the wood felt ecstacy all through its grain. Then, the wrench and nut got involved.
The wrench gripped the nut, gently but firmly, and they fit together perfectly. They were, after all, made for each other, from the same measurement lineage. The wrench was male, and was dominant of course; the nut was female, and the more submissive she was the better the sex.
Once the wrench had surrounded the nut, with loving care and perfect fit, they worked together to place her carefully on the end of Bolt. Their threads were eager to mate, and the wrench turned the nut over and over again around the bolt’s threads.
Bolt felt the opening tightening deliciously, gripping him smoothly and firmly but without dryness or sticking. Thus joined, the three instruments experienced ecstasy, a coming together in mechanical harmony.
“What stamina you have!” cried the nut after a euphoric and seemingly unending number of turns, but the bolt was too busy trying not to strip her to answer.
At last the wrench finished the screwing, having pinned the nut and bolt so tightly together they were nearly bonded. The tool-sex session was finished. The ménage à trois had come to its resting point but eagerly contemplated its next tool-sex session.
