Little Giant Shipping Expert

While wandering the show floor of LDI 2008 in Las Vegas, I noticed that Little Giant Ladders had a booth set up. Sticking up into the air above the booth, like candles on a birthday cake, were several examples of their ladders I've drooled over many times while watching their famous late night infomercial. The Little Giant has always been something I've thought I could use, especially when doing film shoots on location. The Little Giant would allow me to have a seven foot A-frame ladder (the configuration I'd use the most) that would collapse to under five feet for transport in my Ford Escape. And, if need be, I'd have all the other very useful configurations at my disposal.

Why didn't I own a Little Giant already, you ask? Because I work with electricity, I wanted to get one of the fiberglass models (as opposed to the electrically conductive aluminum model), and that one was $450.00. That's a lot of money to plunk down on a ladder I'd use maybe once every other month. Whenever I had the money to get it, it often ended up going to more pertinent expenses like car payments or gas. And, I already had a six foot wood ladder that I'd stuff into my car when I really needed to get high up at a shoot.

Back to Vegas: I approached the booth and saw the very ladder that I wanted, the Model 17 fiberglass. Salesman Tyler approached me and took me through some of the ladder's features. It was great, I felt like I was in the infomercial! All I needed was for Al Borlind or whatever his name is to come around the corner in his flannel shirt! I folded up the ladder and picked it up to see how heavy it was (the negative reviews I've read have said the ladder is way too heavy, but I suspect these reviews have originated from housewives and jelly-armed yuppies). The ladder did have some weight to it, but so does everything else we deal with in theater and on film shoots! I can handle lifting fifty pounds with no problem.

Just as I rolled the ladder back into the booth (yes, it has wheels), salesman Tyler blind sided me with a phenomenal asking price if I was interested in buying the ladder on the spot, and I mean phenomenal! Like amazing discount, out of this world ridiculous-not-to-buy-it deal! How would I get it home, though? Surely this ladder wasn't going to fit in the overhead bin on the flight home. Tyler explained that FedEx had a store right there in the convention center, where I could ship the ladder to myself back in East Chicago. This sealed the deal, and with a swipe of my credit card (charge it to the game), I was the proud owner of a Little Giant.

Because Tyler couldn't get to the shipping box for the ladder until after the convention closed, I had to rely on the *shipping experts* at FedEx to help me safely pack my ladder. No problem, I thought, I'll take the ladder up there, give it to them, they'll figure out how to pack it, just like at the UPS store, and I'll be back to the show floor in no time. WRONG.

"We can't pack it for you," says the *shipping expert* at FedEx.

The first *shipping expert* I spoke with looked at my new Little Giant, glanced behind him at the buffet of bubble wrap and boxes, then looked glumly back at me and said, "The largest box we have is a 24 (inch) cube, so because we can't fit the ladder into one of our boxes, we can't pack it for you." OK, no big deal, the ladder is tough, it can probably get FedEx'ed without a box altogether. I really didn't care if it got scuffed up in transit, that's going to happen once I start using it anyway.

I suggested wrapping the ladder in "shrink wrap", that cellophane plastic stuff, to prevent it from flopping open during transit. *Shipping Expert* says no to the shrink wrap. "How about tape," I ask? *Shipping Expert* says tape is fine. So, at this point, we've agreed that all I need to do is tape the legs closed and I can slap a sticker on the ladder and ship it as-is. But, just for piece of mind, I asked if I could tape cardboard to the top and bottom of the ladder, as well as around the hinge and wheels. *Shipping Expert* agrees to the plan, but reminds me that neither he or the other four idle *shipping experts* in the store can have any part of actually packing the ladder. Perturbed, I asked for a 24 inch cube box, as well as the use of a tape gun and a box cutter.

The theater I work with operates by the mantra, "Make it happen." I kept this in mind as I embarked on my first challenge as a gumshoe *shipping expert*. (Photo by *Shipping Expert*)

So, right there in the middle of the FedEx sales floor, I plopped my ladder down and began arts and crafts time, cutting the cardboard around the irregularly shaped ladder, struggling to get all the pieces to line up as four *shipping experts* stood by and watched between helping customers purchase spindles of CD's and ship tiny envelopes.

Fifteen minutes and two rolls of tape later, I'd successfully encased the entire ladder (except for the sides) in tape and cardboard, and was comfortable with it making the transcontinental journey in this fashion. I took the ladder to the sales counter, and was blind sided yet again. *Shipping Expert* says that HIS *shipping expert* says that I need to put cardboard on the sides as well (after, mind you, I've encased THE ENTIRE LADDER in tape, as well as after we'd agreed the cardboard wasn't necessary in the first place.)

My East Chicago attitude, which I try and suppress, began to bleed through with the mounting frustration. "Why didn't you tell me this before I wrapped the thing in tape?" I asked. *Shipping Expert* stares back blankly. "Boy I sure wish your 'shipping expert' was here helping me with this!," I replied, a bit more annoyed. *Shipping Expert* shrugs his shoulders and continues staring back, eyes glazed over. I cave. "Alright, give me another box."

More cutting. More taping. More mess.

With fifteen more minutes gone along with lots more custom cutting, I made side panels for my "box" and re-encased the entire rig in tape again, using half of another FedEx tape gun in the process. Passers by and other customers, by now, curiously looked at me sprawled out on the floor like I was performing as part of some modern art exhibit.

I held my breath and took my Frankenbox up to the counter again. *Shipping Expert* dude was now gone, and semi-attractive female *Shipping Expert* took over, laughing when I asked if the store was going to hire me due to my demonstration of expert packing skills. Perhaps this joke, along with my ordeal, sparked some sympathy within her, as *Shipping Expert* 2 didn't charge me for the ten dollars worth of boxes I tore through.

Guy Rhodes Productions: Lighting Design. Photography. Video Production. Custom Packing.

The good news? In the end, the shipping cost to East Chicago for the ladder was $76.40. This, coupled with the price I got on the ladder, meant that I still walked away with an AWESOME deal that I wouldn't have got on this ladder anywhere else. Was it worth all the trouble? Sure. After all, I can now add *shipping expert* to my resume!