Hardware Store Fail

I needed to do something on a lazy Saturday afternoon. I also needed to get away from my parents. So when My Father asked me to get something from the hardware store, I jumped at the chance.

Unfortunately, as he sometimes does when he wants to get stuff for him at the hardware store, he has a hard time explaining what he wants. Father shows me what he wants; in this case we went to the master bathroom and he showed me the vertical corner ... thing that, um, bridges the corner. He says the walls don't meet up at this corner in one of his houses, so he wants this moulding thing to make it look nice. Oh, and he needs caulk for this corner thing. And he wants a lock, too, just like the one for the shed.

I treat myself to a slush from Sonic -- just made it at 4 o'clock and their half-off happy hour -- before going to Menards. After finding the caulk, I got lost. When that happens, what I usually do is walk around with a stupid look on my face until someone stops and asks if I need anything. What probably helped extra this time was that I was drinking a Sonic slush and was wearing a hawaiian shirt.

A couple guys helped me. They told me to go down several aisles and they'll get someone. I don't know if I ever went down to where they told me to, but no one ever came. Luckily, I found a bunch of outside corner thingies. But then I notice that they're not corners per se, but there's something more to them, an extra notch that screws up the simple corner I'm looking for. A guy then comes up to me and asks if I need anything; he then says what I need might be in the next building.

I walk to the next building. Pop my dumb look; two people ask how I'm doing. I tell them what I need to the best of my ability. They say the closest thing they have is clear and in the wallpaper section ... in the first building. So I trek the fuck back to the first building. Can't find the wallpaper section. A guy volunteers to help me, but he was busy sawing off some part for some woman.

After wandering some more, I find the piece I'm looking for. But it's clear, not all white as Father wanted. I don't need him bitching at me, so I'm going to call him before I buy this. So I find a place to put down this corner molding thing and call home but it says "Call Failed. Shit-shit-shit-shit-fuck-goddamn!!! I forget that the back half of this Menards is a fucking dead zone! So now I have to trudge all the way up to the front of the store with this eight-foot thing bending at the ends (a guy passing me by warned me it was going to break in half. If only) just to make the phone call. On my way there I see one of the first two guys who helped me doing something back at his computer. Did it occur to him that I was still looking around, and that he must have failed somehow if I still was? Anyway, My Father says it's OK.

I instinctively walk to the back of the store. Then I realize this thing is self-adhering. Does he still want the caulk? Sigh -- go back up to the front and call. No, he said, I don't need the caulk for anything else besides the thingy. So now I spend 10 minutes figuring out where to put back the caulk. I find it just as the other of the first two guys to help me was talking to someone else. Does he care that I'm still lost and looking for stuff?

So now to the locks. I wander yet another 10 minutes, eight-foot monster in tow, to get to the locks. Shit-shit-shit-shit-fuck-goddamn!!! I forget to check the shed for what size it lock he wanted before I left! All I know is he wants the cheapest lock possible -- no Master or Schlage for Father, his orders, just Tru-Lock[?]. What size lock does he want? Shit-shit-shit-shit-fuck-goddamn I have to go back to the front to call yet again. Get the same size lock, he said. I could've guessed that was what he was going to say. I make a guess and get the fuck out of the store.

After wrestling the 8' thing into my car, I look at its clock: It's 5:45. And after finally getting home, it took me two hours to escape the Vortex Of The Goddamn Hardware Store. That's the thing about home improvement: Half the time the thing you're looking for isn't there or doesn't even fucking exist.

I get home and am curious if I get the right lock. After one more delivery of the 8' thing to my parents' car, I go to the shed and compare locks. The one I bought is a wee bit bigger. Did I buy the wrong one? Shit-shit-shit-shit-fuck-goddamn. ...