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Saturday, August 30, 2014

Oh silly girl, did you forget to bring your man with you?

Good afternoon!

So while Hubby is on vacation hiking mountains and enjoying temperatures in the low 50's (f) in August, I decided to get a couple little projects done around the house.  Yesterday, I replaced all the burned out lightbulbs and almost all the dead batteries.  I say almost all because I need a tiny screwdriver to replace the ones in my Partylite LED color changing candles and I can't find it.
These should just come with
a tiny screwdriver.

And after reading that sentence, I realize that what happened at Home Depot today might not be QUITE as unbelieveable as I first thought.

Today's project was going to involve getting rid of a very stanky area rug in the tv space in the basement.  I bought it a number of years ago because I needed something to cover the Slimfast stains on the carpet upstairs.  (Not sure how I managed to get as many Slimfast stains on the carpet, since I tend to buy the stuff, but not actually drink it, but oh well.) Since then, it's been down in the basement where no one really sees it, which is good since no one really likes it.  It's black, which shows every speck of food or hair or whatever, and it's shag...yes, I bought a shag area rug.

Get here early on Weekends, or
abandon all hope.
So today I went to Home Depot to get a couple packs of those colorful puzzle squares you put on the floor.  We have them in another part of the basement, the spot we affectionately call the workout area. I knew I could get these squares at one of two places:  Sam's Club and Home Depot.  Since it was after noon on a Saturday, there's no way I was going to Sam's Club.  That place is a circus on Saturdays if you don't get there early enough.

Had I gone to Sam's Club...I would not be blogging.

No, I decided to go to Home Depot.  I hate Home Depot, and I never, repeat NEVER go there without my husband.  I usually only go with him if I can't figure out a good reason to NOT go with him or if we're doing a project where I really do care either how much it's going to cost or how it looks.  So no, I don't go to Home Depot that often.

But I went today because I needed one thing:  Floor squares.  I got there and saw a very good deal on some general kitchen cleanser.  We need some good general kitchen cleanser.  (I don't want to bore you with details, let's just say that putting something in the basement microwave and then forgetting about it for three weeks tends to leave behind a very interesting odor...and colorful flora and possible fauna.)

Then I remembered I needed toilet drop ins, you know the ones that turn your toilet water blue?  I love those.  And while getting the drop ins I saw they had a good deal on toilet bowl cleaner.

I was starting to like Home Depot.

Then I went to Flooring and found the squares, except the ones I found were bigger than I remember, and there were only four to a pack.  I do not remember THAT being the case the last time I saw this product at Home Depot.  I looked for someone in an orange apron to help me, but one guy was on the phone...I hope that was a personal call, because if he was talking to a customer...yikes!  And the other guy was, also on the phone, and making a very big deal about watching me and then starting up a conversation I thought might be completed.

Sort of made me wonder about the Flooring Department and their dedication to their customers.

I walked around looking for an alternate package of the squares, or, conversely, a Home Depot Employee who WASN'T trying to avoid me by being on a phone call.  (I was starting to believe the Flooring guys were talking to each other.)

I walked three aisles down, was passed by an employee who took one look at me and was suddenly wildly interested in taking up running.  Finally I found a gent not doing anything.  I said, "Excuse me?"

He looked at me.  He picked up his water bottle. He unscrewed it.  He took a long drink.  Then he said, "AHHHHHHHH."  Then he screwed the top back on. Then he set it down.  Then he looked at me again, surprised I'd stayed for all of that. "Yes?"

"Do you have any other options for these floor squares?  I was here a few weeks ago and there were packs of eight or ten, but I'm not finding those."

He looked around, and I realized he was looking for MY MAN.  Seeing no man who would claim me, He said, "No, we don't have any of those."

I was about to thank him anyway, when he added these words:  "We don't have Flooring here. This is the chain aisle.  You have to go back to Flooring."

Oh, yes, I see.  The Motto "You can do it, We can help" needs to be amended to "You're going to have to do it since we'll only help you if you're actually in our aisle."

"I was in Flooring."  

"Oh, then ask someone there."

"They are both on the phone."

"Oh, well, sorry.  We don't have that in this department."

I walked away.  Good luck, buddy, getting to be employee of the month in the CHAIN aisle.

I made one more loop around Flooring.  And yes, they were still both on the phone.  And I went to check out.

I have a rule about checkouts, and it's one my hubby taught me:  Avoid the dude.  Never go to the checkout where there's a dude.  It's a good rule. At the very end of the row of checkouts,there were two women at registers.  One was very busy with a customer.  The other one was very busy NOT making eye contact with me.  Oh she saw me...and she could have waived me over, but she didn't because, see, I hadn't brought a man with me and I was pushing a cart full of colorful floor squares.  I was one sticky face short of a lost child.

I finally got to the cashier and she started scanning my stuff.  And that's when the final insult of the day was hurled at me in the form of a Bill Engvall "Here's Your Sign" moment.  The cashier looked at my cleaning items and said, "Oh, are you spending the day cleaning the kitchen?"

No, I wanted to say, I'm going to soak the floor squares in the cleaners, set them out in front of my office and light them on fire, creating the world's most beautiful, lemony smelling molotov cocktail.

Here's your sign.

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