| rev:text
| - Forgive the boys at Rodmakers their awkward location. In order to get the size they need, I think they told their broker: "Find us something as far from fishable waters as possible. Oh, yeah, it should be in a crappy strip mall, too. Tight lines!"
Here's how great this place is: I don't fish anything but fly, but I really love poking around at all the "hardware" stuff. How much stuff do they have, you're thinking? How many grains of sand on a beach? How many stars in the Milky Way? How many lies on a typical Fox News broadcast? Right. It just can't be counted. Aisle upon aisle of great stuff, sensibly priced. Okay, it ain't a fly shop. It does, though, have enough fly stuff to keep me coming back. (But would it kill them to re-stock the fly assortment? I tie my own, but some of those buck fitty flies are pretty sweet, and would save me from squinting at the vise while my porn downloads.)
The guys working there are always helpful, enthusiastic, and quick to call me a girly-man because I won't drown worms. (I let slip that I practice catch and release, and they had me in a grass skirt and coconut shell bra faster than you can say, "Zebco!") If you fish anywhere in the greater Cleveland/Akron/Thunder Bay metropolitan statistical area, you owe yourself a trip to the Rodmaker. Tell them Girly-Man sent you. And be prepared for emasculation.
|