What the Ryobi Did to My Hands

I bought the Ryobi because Home Depot had it on sale and because BW said the deck railing was going to kill someone. She was right. She usually is. The railing had been loose for two years. Two years of the child running her hand along it like it was a living thing that might fall off any second.

The Ryobi came in a plastic case that felt like it cost more than the drill. Fourteen pounds of compact certainty. Red. Very red. The kind of red that makes you feel like you're about to do something important, even if it's just tightening bolts on a twelve-year-old deck.

I charged it for three hours. Read the manual sitting in the garage while BW watched from the kitchen window, probably wondering if I'd actually use it or if it would end up in the pile with the Brad nailer and the stud finder and the moisture meter I bought after the basement got damp that one time in 2019.

The drill was heavier than I expected when I held it. Dense. Purposeful. Like it knew exactly what it was doing and I was just along for the ride. I lined up the first bolt on the railing. Set the torque. Pushed the trigger.

The thing had torque. I wasn't ready for the torque. My wrist wasn't ready. My shoulder definitely wasn't ready. It kicked. Not like an angry thing, more like a thing that was doing its job and my job was to not let it win. I won. The bolt went in. Tight. Perfect, even.

The second bolt went the same way. And the third. By the fifth bolt my hands were shaking a little. Not from fear. From something else. The feeling of doing a thing correctly. The feeling of a tool that actually worked without negotiation.

The child came outside halfway through and watched me for ten minutes without saying anything. Just watched the Ryobi spin. Watched my face concentrate on not dying. Then she went back inside to draw something with a marker. I finished the railing. Tested it. Solid. The thing wasn't falling off anymore.

I put the drill back in its case. It was warm. Still humming a little, the battery indicator pulsing red like something alive. I set it on the shelf next to the stud finder and the Brad nailer. Where it will probably stay now. Not because I don't want to use it. Because using it made my hands ache in a way that felt like work, and I've got enough work already without volunteering for more.

The railing holds, though. That part's true.

If you liked this story about the Ryobi One+ 18V Cordless Drill/Driver, you can buy your own on Amazon. Remember, we're BFF if you do.