(The title originates from a clip of the Muppet Show, which is available for your enjoyment here.)
I went to Lowes the other night because I needed some ceramic tiles for a super secret project I'm working on. A super secret CHRISTMAS project! So if you get a present made of tiles from me...act surprised/like you don't hate it.
ANYWAY Gary was too busy doing "homework" for "school" so he can "graduate and support our family" to accompany me, so I had to go it alone.
I took the truck, which always makes me feel a little (ha!) self conscious. Long story short, (Two in a row?! I am on a ROLL!) it is extremely difficult for me to get into. Gary recently put a 4-inch lift on it, making what used to be a moderately difficult task damn near impossible. I always try to park kind of far away from everyone else, partly to avoid any chance of crushing their tiny vehicles with my monster truck, and partly in hopes that no one will hear the little "HYUH!" that is necessary to propel me far enough upward to achieve a safe landing in the driver's seat.
I walked into Lowes, stared around in wonder for a few seconds, and immediately burst into tears. I'M A GIRL. AND NOT THE COOL, SELF-SUFFICIENT KIND THAT WOULD KNOW HER WAY AROUND A HARDWARE STORE; I'M THE KIND WHO'S NOT ALLOWED TO USE THE NEEDLE-NOSED PLIERS AT HOME ANYMORE BECAUSE OF THE OTHER NIGHT WHEN SHE MADE HERSELF BLEED THREE SEPARATE TIMES.
I figured I'd better suck it up and start looking. I began my search in the kitchen section, 'cause I feel like that's a place where there are usually tiles. No dice. (No tiles, either. Mbaha.) Then I thought I'd give the bathroom section a shot. There were toilets everywhere - oh, sooo many toilets - but again, no tiles. It figures that the one time I need help finding something is the one time I'm not being bombarded by overly-helpful employees asking me if I need help finding something.
I finally spotted a Lowes employee in the flooring department, so I walked over to him and said, "Hey...I'm sure this is the wrong department, but I'm looking for some...individual...ceramic...tiles...?" Then I included a very helpful visual using both my thumbs and pointer fingers.
The guy looked confused for a second before replying, "Well...this...is the right section. They're right back here. Are...you retarded?" (He didn't say that last part so much with his mouth as he did with his eyes.)
Then he asked, "You just want the white ones? Four inches?" Uhhh...duh! Didn't you see my finger square? I nodded and he walked me back to the end of the aisle and pointed to a box. I sheepishly thanked him, collected my tiles and headed to the front register to check out.
The lady at the checkout counter was SUPER nice. Her face lit up when she saw my tiles. "Ohhh! Are you doing that thing where you (THIS SECTION HAS BEEN REMOVED TO PRESERVE THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS)??? I just had someone else in here who was gonna do the same thing! And it's great because they're only ten cents ea---wait...that's weird...these ones look the same but they're thirty-five cents each..."
So as it turns out, THAT GUY IN THE FLOORING SECTION TRIED TO SWINDLE ME. He walked me PAST the ten cent tiles to get to the more expensive ones.
WHAT GIVES, FLOORING GUY??? DO YOU GET A COMMISSION ON CERAMIC TILE SALES??? Or do you just enjoy preying on unsuspecting women who don't know any better than to pay three times the normal price for tiles??? HUH???
WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?????????????????????????????????????????????
ALL THESE QUESTION MARKS DEMAND ANSWERS!
I'm guessing you saw the tears of frustration that were starting to pool up in my eyes and assumed I'd be easy pickings,* and you would have been right if it hadn't been for that sweet baby angel of mercy at the front register.** I realize the likelihood of you being one of the 44 people who read this blog isn't very good, but just in case you are, I want you to know that I AM SHAKING MY FIST IN VICTORIOUS FURY! For I know that as long as that Our Lady of Pinterest Projects is standing guard over the checkout line, SUCCESS SHALL BE BEYOND YOUR REACH!
*Also I've heard that Lowes employees are trained to smell fear and incompetence.
**She wasn't a baby; she was a grown woman. But she was an angel if ever there was one.