Clean-up on Aisle Six
A disturbing thing happened last Sunday morning and it has taken until now for me to be able to write about it. I went to Home Depot. I hate this store. I hate this store like Tara Reid hates sobriety. If becoming a family man means frequent trips to Home Depot, the world will become a much darker place.
Sunday morning, 7am. My alarm goes off so I can get out early and beat the crowds.
Sunday morning, 8:30am. I get out of bed. Damn you, snooze button!
I will not bring my little Elizabeth into this world filled with weed-strewn walkways, rusty gate hinges and mulch-less flower beds. So off to the Depot I go.
Home Depot immediately gets off on the wrong foot as I begin pushing my cart and realize the back right wheel is stuck. As I wander the isles, hopelessly looking for my items, my carriage is letting out this horrific squealing noise, similar to the noise I made when Kathy Bates stepped out of the that hot tub naked.
There is no rhyme or reason, as far as I can tell, to the layout of this store. Robert Langdon himself would get lost looking for “liquid nails”, which I wrongly assumed would be in the nail isle, but instead are curiously positioned in the paint department.
And don’t look to the employees for guidance:
“Can you tell me if you have any more of these shower heads?”
“I’m not sure. I’d have to get the ladder and check those boxes up on that shelf.”
(I stand there waiting for this action to occur and he stands there looking at me like, “I gave you my answer. What more do you want?”.) So I say thanks and walk away. Tracy does not get her new shower head.
One thing I am fond of is the self checkout. However, I have three large bags of mulch so I ask the girl sitting close by if I am able to scan these large bags myself. She doesn’t answer me but instead rolls her eyes, gets out of her seat and waddles over to my register to activate some supplementary scanning feature. I was within mere seconds of insulting her by commenting on her laziness and more than ample ass, but instead I choose to just laugh and say thank you.
In the end, as a sign of personal protest against this hideous store, after loading my stockpile into the truck of my car, I flipped the noisy wheel-impaired carriage on its side and, just for good measure, gave it a swift kick. That’ll show em. Hopefully Elizabeth doesn’t receive too many “some assembly required” gifts.
**It is our last vacation for a while this weekend. A visit to see family and some friends. We have scheduled visits with Spike, Go-Go, Dinky & Zippy. And although that sounds like we are going to Fraggle Rock, they are actually real people all living in the New England area. Happy Memorial Day.
Sunday morning, 7am. My alarm goes off so I can get out early and beat the crowds.
Sunday morning, 8:30am. I get out of bed. Damn you, snooze button!
I will not bring my little Elizabeth into this world filled with weed-strewn walkways, rusty gate hinges and mulch-less flower beds. So off to the Depot I go.
Home Depot immediately gets off on the wrong foot as I begin pushing my cart and realize the back right wheel is stuck. As I wander the isles, hopelessly looking for my items, my carriage is letting out this horrific squealing noise, similar to the noise I made when Kathy Bates stepped out of the that hot tub naked.
There is no rhyme or reason, as far as I can tell, to the layout of this store. Robert Langdon himself would get lost looking for “liquid nails”, which I wrongly assumed would be in the nail isle, but instead are curiously positioned in the paint department.
And don’t look to the employees for guidance:
“Can you tell me if you have any more of these shower heads?”
“I’m not sure. I’d have to get the ladder and check those boxes up on that shelf.”
(I stand there waiting for this action to occur and he stands there looking at me like, “I gave you my answer. What more do you want?”.) So I say thanks and walk away. Tracy does not get her new shower head.
One thing I am fond of is the self checkout. However, I have three large bags of mulch so I ask the girl sitting close by if I am able to scan these large bags myself. She doesn’t answer me but instead rolls her eyes, gets out of her seat and waddles over to my register to activate some supplementary scanning feature. I was within mere seconds of insulting her by commenting on her laziness and more than ample ass, but instead I choose to just laugh and say thank you.
In the end, as a sign of personal protest against this hideous store, after loading my stockpile into the truck of my car, I flipped the noisy wheel-impaired carriage on its side and, just for good measure, gave it a swift kick. That’ll show em. Hopefully Elizabeth doesn’t receive too many “some assembly required” gifts.
**It is our last vacation for a while this weekend. A visit to see family and some friends. We have scheduled visits with Spike, Go-Go, Dinky & Zippy. And although that sounds like we are going to Fraggle Rock, they are actually real people all living in the New England area. Happy Memorial Day.