Allen wrenches are those spiffy little wrenches that have hexagonal heads and are shaped like a capital letter L. If you’ve assembled anything involving nuts and bolts and swear words, then you probably got at least one allen wrench in with the kit and assembly instructions.

Allen wrenches are, of course, drawn to human males, and there are several reasons for that. I think, though, that it’s primarily because men — especially the more domesticated varieties — are invariably called upon to assemble large, clunky items of furniture or machines or devices which have pieces attached by allen bolts. In the case of furniture, the man’s call is usually accompanied by the wife’s accompaniment of, “That looks heavy and hard, honey. You do it.” In the case of machines or devices, the accompaniment is usually something like, “That looks heavy, hard, and boring, honey. You do it.”

Actually, that’s completely unfair. Jennifer offered to help assemble the weight bench which now resides, fully assembled, in our guest room. But I know my own limitations, and I have finally come to terms with the fact that, when it comes to things like this, I just don’t play well with others. I get frustrated and annoyed, especially when pieces that were welded together improperly (and which nearly prompt me to call the customer service line to ask if there are any documented cases of anyone actually assembling the foul contraption successfully without the use of heavy machinery or welding equipment); and Jennifer’s finely tuned sense of self-preservation kicked in and she sat at her computer and played games while I torqued and pounded and aligned and cursed.

And actually, it wasn’t all that difficult an assembly. There was only one time when I had to lie on my back, using a wrench with one hand to hold a bolt in place while I attached the aircraft nut with the other hand while holding the inclined bench support aloft with my left foot. It hurt, but I got my isometric stretching in while doing it; but the packaging materials failed to include that cool spinner with the pictures of the hands and the feet and the different colors so that someone could shout out “Left hand blue!” while I was trying to put these pieces together.

I think it was about then that Jennifer reported to my mother that there was a blue cloud of obscenities beginning to form over Dixon.

I don’t really know how these things get successfully built. You see such things — like this weight bench — sitting on the sporting goods floor, all nice and pretty and perfectly assembled and without any blood smears on it. Such displays are meant to instill confidence in the man. “Well, if some retail schmuck can put that together perfectly,” the man is supposed to think, “then, Hell, me and a bottle of beer can do it, no prob!” Of course, what you don’t realize is that no human being actually assembles these things. Yoda actually comes in at night and commands the Force to assemble these things. Even then, the Force occasionally pounds its thumb and curses and gets ready to quit in exasperation before Yoda threatens to give it a good whompin’ and sends Mace Windu to get medieval on its ass.

So the man, falsely inspired, appeals to his wife, who, under the barrage of pleading from the husband and hard-sell tactics from the salesperson, sighs and says, “Fine, we can add that to the pile of incomplete projects in the garage. What’s one more?”

And then the box, complete with all of the parts and the pieces and the assembly instructions written in an obscure 4th century dialect of Sudanese, is loaded into the car and the project is taken home.

And, of course, it comes with allen wrenches.

I scored two allen wrenches from the weight bench project. I’ve added them to the collection, which includes allen wrenches that have come from the two folding futon frames, the endtable with built-in lamp that lives in our living room now, my grill, the light kit for the ceiling fan in the computer room, and the two rocking chairs in the master bedroom. To my credit, the only incomplete project among those is the light kit. And I have an excuse for that one.

So now the weight bench is done. The allen wrenches have been put away. All of the weights have been moved to the guest room, including the large barbell which now rests on the stand at the top. The packaging material has been thrown away. And my muscles are all ready to use it.

All that’s left is for me to use it.