lamberts-lost-tooth
06-11-2006, 01:00 PM
So ...I'm building my kids a treehouse/clubouse right? All I need is a box of nails to finish. Impressed that I had gotten so much done and looking forward to finishing, I jump into the Explorer and head to the local Lowe's "home improvement" center.
I walk in, and not being familiar with where things were located..I looked for an "associate" to assist me. My first impression was "Holy Crap!...everyone who works her is either 17 or 70...noone in between!"
I walk up to some "thrasher" with about ten visible piercings and politely ask him where the nail aisle was located. He makes a vague gesture and says ..."over there". How helpful. Now I was certain that the nails werent "here"...they were "there".
I find the next youthful employee...who listened to my question while smacking her gum and blinking alot...I could actually see my question sloooowwwly sinking into her cerebral regions..and was extremely gratified to get something that resembled an answer.
I walk to the othe side of the store...locate the nail aisle and turn down it to see one our senior citizens stocking the shelves. As I approach him ..he looks at me and seems to be getting nervous. When I get within about twenty feet of him, he abruptly stands up and hurries out of the aisle at the oposite end. I was very confused about his behavior until I arrived at the eact location he had previously vacated. Yep...I walk into a noxious green funk of flatulance that immedietaly made my eyes water, and actually prolonged the agony by making it harder to find the nails that were convenietly located right in the center maelstrom of the fart storm.
I grab the nails...take them to register and wait for Gum-smacker to ring them up...slooowwwly, and make what I prefer to think of as "my escape" from the store.
(Thank God for Menards!!!!!!!)
I walk in, and not being familiar with where things were located..I looked for an "associate" to assist me. My first impression was "Holy Crap!...everyone who works her is either 17 or 70...noone in between!"
I walk up to some "thrasher" with about ten visible piercings and politely ask him where the nail aisle was located. He makes a vague gesture and says ..."over there". How helpful. Now I was certain that the nails werent "here"...they were "there".
I find the next youthful employee...who listened to my question while smacking her gum and blinking alot...I could actually see my question sloooowwwly sinking into her cerebral regions..and was extremely gratified to get something that resembled an answer.
I walk to the othe side of the store...locate the nail aisle and turn down it to see one our senior citizens stocking the shelves. As I approach him ..he looks at me and seems to be getting nervous. When I get within about twenty feet of him, he abruptly stands up and hurries out of the aisle at the oposite end. I was very confused about his behavior until I arrived at the eact location he had previously vacated. Yep...I walk into a noxious green funk of flatulance that immedietaly made my eyes water, and actually prolonged the agony by making it harder to find the nails that were convenietly located right in the center maelstrom of the fart storm.
I grab the nails...take them to register and wait for Gum-smacker to ring them up...slooowwwly, and make what I prefer to think of as "my escape" from the store.
(Thank God for Menards!!!!!!!)