Since I'm so darn nice, I won't name names August 20, 2008 17:23
Arrrrggggghhhh. Yippee skippee, yippee skippee, yippee skippee! Why these conflicting emotions, dear readers? Well, not love, though I suppose you could say love led me here. In a long and roundabout way. A very long, very meandering, very roundabout way.
Tonight, hubby and I went to pay for new carpet at Home Depot. This was our third trip concerning carpet. The first trip, we picked out a gorgeous carpet that was pet friendly and durable (as carpet goes, that is, when you have two canine friends). We set up the measure. Home Depot called with the quote. And we discovered our dream carpet was too expensive. Much too.
So. Trip two: We picked out another carpet. Just as durable, just as pet-friendly, but considerably less pricey. Less attractive as well. But with the charming moniker of Bon Jour.
Naturally, we had to bring the new sample home to pick out a color in our light. We didn’t want a carpet that looked like the perfect greige in the store to be World War I mustard on our floor.
So. I called Home Depot today to ensure everything was ready to go. My sales associate assured me that all we had to do was come in and pay. Yes, indeedy. She wouldn’t be there, but not a big deal. Not a big deal at all. Anyone there could handle it. Really. She said.
When we arrived at Home Depot (in case you're counting — and I know you are — this is trip three), His Bertness asked “Do I have to come in? Can’t I just sit in the car?” No. No. A thousand times no. You must come in because you know there’s always a little waiting involved at Home Depot. And if I have to suffer — heavy sigh — you have to suffer. Isn't that what love is all about? Together. Wherever. Etc.
So, in we go, walking ever so briskly to the flooring department. Because, of course, we want to hurry back home. We have socks to mend, sweaters to knit, and so on. You know.
There’s only one sales associate in sight. We ask him to help us. He replies that he has to finish something first. Fine. We’ve come prepared for waiting. And I can tell you that’s a good thing, because wait we did. So he finished his task and turned to us. And then the real waiting began. He couldn’t find our order. He seemed quite irritated with us over this matter. Then I had to be difficult. I wanted two different carpet colors. On one order. The nerve. The gall. The computer system wasn’t set up for this. The computer system would not figure out how much carpet we needed of Marble and how much we needed of Old Cedar. Dang customers, I’m sure he was screaming under his breath. So. I twiddled my thumbs. I tried to see the beauty in all mankind. I waited. The light did not come on for him. I proffered a suggestion: Since we only wanted one room in Old Cedar, why not simply subtract the yardage for that room from the total. (Meanwhile, His Bertness is sitting beside me, reading the new J.A. Jance book, completely oblivious. Completely.) So, the sales associate — let’s call him Grumpy — hits many computer keys, without a desirable result. He gets out his old-fashioned calculator. A Luddite’s dream. But, heck, it works. Now, Grumpy only has to get his computer to accept the figure. Much muttering and keyboarding ensues. Much.
And, then, I pulled out my coupon . . .
All in all, we were in the flooring department for more than an hour. Really. But the carpet is ordered. Finally. And you, my friends, believe it or not, have gotten the Reader’s Digest condensed version of this story. Because I am so darn considerate. So there.