I love it when my husband sends me on an errand to the hardware store. No, really, I love it. I love it just as much as he probably did back in the days when I had a uterus and sent him to the grocery store for my feminine hygiene products. At least my errands for him involved finding something that was well- marked and easily recognizable to at least 99% of adult males.
Errands to the hardware store are something altogether different. Take, for instance, my trip to Home Depot today.
"I need three sets of these," my husband said, depositing a combination of a nail so large it could have easily kept Christ up on the cross much longer, encased in a narrow metal tool. "They're to put the rain gutter back up," he explained. "Just go the to the gutter section and find someone to help you. And if they don't have these then just get a 12-inch....." the rest was lost as my attention wandered to the pretty yellow birds that were visiting the bird feeders.".....okay?"
"Sure," I replied, knowing full-well that I would come home with something that was totally wrong and would have to suffer through a five-minute lecture.
I set off for Home Depot but first I had to stop at Staples to mail a box of school clothes I bought for my grandsons in Georgia. Then the Clearance section of the store beckoned and I frittered away another 20 minutes trying to decide which pen to buy. I just know if I find the right one, then it's just a matter of time before I'm able to write the Great American Novel.
By the time I got to Home Depot I had pretty much forgotten everything my husband had said except for the "three sets of these." Luckily, I had tucked away the sample he gave me and I dug it out of my purse and held it in my hand like a divining rod that would hopefully lead me to the right section of the store.
I wandered up and down the aisles looking for a big sign that would read "Gutters" but that would have been too easy, so I went in search of a salesperson (which is sometimes almost as difficult as finding what it is you're looking for).
I have a confession to make, one that's probably not going to make me very popular with my "sisters." If given the choice between a male and a female salesperson, I will always go with the male. I know, I know. It's horribly sexist of me. I'm sure there are plenty of women who can speak just as knowledgeably about hardware as men, but I've yet to find one of them wearing an orange apron at my local store. Do I really need to wander aimlessly around the store with someone who's just as clueless as I am? And when they finally admit they don't know what I'm talking about, much less where to find it, who do they call? Must I state the obvious?
There have been times though when the only salesperson available was a woman and I find it interesting that I adopt whole different demeanor - a "my husband is a big pain in the ass for sending me here" kind of attitude, trying to play the sisterhood card.
"I'm looking for the gutter," I joked with the woman who stood before me. No response. Not even a hint of a smile. Okay then..."He sent me to get three of these," I said,holding out my sample.
After studying it for a moment, she led me to an unmarked section where I vaguely recognized something that looked like a rain gutter. I scanned the shelves and "bingo" - what I was looking for just jumped out at me.
"Spikes and Ferrules" the label rad. That sounded like a shady law firm of the name of a punk rock duo.
"Oh. I've never heard of those before. Guess I learned something today," the saleswoman said and she wandered away.
"Thanks for all your help," I muttered as I headed for the check out aisle.
I returned home to find my husband in the garage, sorting through screws in a coffee can. I was fully prepared to tell him all about my adventures as I handed him the spikes and ferrules.
"Thanks," he said, taking the bag and casually tossing it onto the workbench before turning back to his screw sorting. "I didn't know what they were called."
Wow. Maybe he should be working at the Home Depot.
