"Don't panic."

Today I dropped off the only expensive purse I have ever purchased for some past due maintenance work at the cobbler's shop. I knew there were a few places that needed restitched, but once I got it in there, I saw how bad it really was. The leather was torn in one place and almost there in others. I decided to go ahead with the repairs, which are going to cost me a bit more than I expected, but less than a replacement would.
The guy at the counter took my contact info and told me it would take about two weeks so "don't panic." Though I showed no signs of panic, or even concern, he told me how he didn't like to rush the guy that does the repairs. He just needs to let him take his time. At this point, of course, I envision some half whacked guy in a shack in the woods who is some great leather artisan, but is a nut. "So don't panic." He wasn't kidding. He locale is near SMU and Highland Park. Maybe he has high strung customers who panic over their fancy bags. I found it patronizing. "I have way more stuff to panic over in my life than a purse," I told him. By the time I left, I thought he may be the half whacked guy in the woods. Geez. Weird.