home depot is anything but home

I was out running errands this afternoon - dinner fixings, a few clothes, water filters, and a new sink spigot thingy - and stopped at Home Depot on a lovely Sunday afternoon. The Home Depot is the herding grounds for all types of knuckleheads; primarily the employees. You've got your weekend DIYers, contractors, people who think they are contractors, people who aren't contractors and yet act like contractors and pay for everything in cash, and the oft spotted married couple (and kids if it's a good day) doing everything they can to not kill each other in public. (I don't qualify as any of the above because I have zero handyman skills and I just let ol' Measuring Eyes sort our stuff. I'm a cook, not a carpenter.) I happened to be wandering the aisle that displays all type of water spigot: kitchen sets, bathroom sink sets, and the crazy mash of shower heads. I'd wrongly assumed that I needed to be in this aisle if I wanted a spare part or two being that it was the melting ground of spigots. Ha. Not a chance. But, as I'm wandering up-and-down the aisle fruitlessly looking for what I need I pass by a couple in their 50s who are clearly in the middle of redoing the kitchen. I couldn't tell if the husband was doing the work himself of if it was contracted, but they were at least responsible for purchasing the sink set and bringing it home. Here's the problem with this scenario: men don't really care. Women care. The wife had a list of set numbers that she'd somehow gathered online or from friends with faucets and she was dedicated to finding each one and analyzing whether or not the brush on the nickel, chrome, or stainless steel was just right. He just wanted to get the fuck out of the entire discussion, buy a goddamned sink set, and get home to watch the soccer and/or read the paper. (I'll freely admit that I spent extra time "looking" at the sets near them even though I'd already sorted out that what I needed wasn't anywhere nearby. When you see something like this winding up you must stay close for the payoff.) After being dragged through the entire list of kitchen sink sets, and some twice (I know, I heard it.), the wife finally grabs a box from the shelf and hands it the husband who immediately pops off with "Great. Let's go." Under his breath you could hear clearly what he was really saying even if my text won't do it justice. I think what I actually heard was, "Thank God! Jessssuuuuuuusss! Can I please get the hell out of this inferno you've dragged me into and wasted away half my Sunday surrounded by people I hate and wouldn't piss on if they were on fire?. And all this sink crap...I couldn't give a shit about it? Who cares? Grab something that costs any amount as long as it dispenses water. I DON'T CARE." Or something like that. I think that's probably about what she heard. That's the opening salvo of the payoff; if you've seen this often enough, or been a part of it, you know it's a call-and-response game. I paused, stood quietly staring at both the two-handled and single-handle faucets, and waited that split second. "Why are you being such an ass?", she replied in perfect timing. I'd had my fun and started to sidle away down the row while looking up at the ceiling hoping to escape. You don't want to stay around once the guns are blazing - frankly, it just gets embarrassing after the first shots have been fired. Knowing that I still had the deathtrap known as the Home Depot checkout line ahead of me I feel that even if I shouldn't have stayed behind to listen, it was sweet nonetheless. I think the only department that might lead to more hatred of loved ones would be meandering through paint samples and those irritating little cards. Maybe next time.

I managed to get everything done and make it home in time for the U.S. v. Brasil football final. Since X is working on some sort of 'review', I headed down to a neighbor's house, who we are dog-watching for, and watch football on an actual big HD TV. Not bad for a Sunday.

Dinner's calling.