Tuesday, October 18, 2011

A Trip to Lowes for Plumbing Supplies...aka I'm Also A Contractor

This month was my month to plan our 4-H activity.  I always kind of break out in hives when my turn rolls around.  You know how any other time, you could think up a million things that kids would like to do, and then when it's your turn and the big finger is pointing at you, you get the "deer in the headlights" look.
So, I decided to make Marshmallow Shooters.  OMGah.  Color me ecstatic.
I look up the ingredients, er, supplies....make my list...and head to Lowes.  I ask where the pvc pipe is and am directed to plumbing.  Yay...finally... a place where my pants will feel at home.  Why is it SOOO hard to find cute pants that don't make you look like a plumber when you're putting your child's shoes on?  (You know....the exposure when you're bending over...I HATE that) Ok...so, at the moment, my pants are right where they belong...Plumber Blvd.  woo!  A handy assistant show up (is Lowes' slogan "let's build something together"? or is that Home Depot??...idk)  and he's helping me find my parts.  pvc parts.  you know.  anyway, he says, "So, what are you making exactly?"  and I say, "Marshmallow Shooters" and I think that's the end of the conversation regarding that.  We continue on....we now have (5) 10 foot 1/2" pvc pipes in our buggy.  Excuse me, not IN the buggy.  Rather, falling off the buggy.... nailing me in the rear because Sarah is pushing the buggy... and haphazardly swinging around looking for the life of me like they are going to take out every freakin plumbing item on the shelves of Plumbing Blvd.  Then I tell my handy dandy assistant that I need (30) T-joints, (30) End Caps, and (30) Elbow Joints...and I say this with confidence because I totally know what a T, Elbow, and End look like.  And guess what he hands me?  Contractor bags.  Yeah, baby.  I'm like a freakin contractor plumber girl.  I felt kinda awesome.  He asks if that's all I need, and I say, no...I need pvc pipe cutters.  And I get pvc piper cutters.  (that was kind of a let down, wasn't it?  there was no story to the cutters)  Okay..moving along... I say, "Okay, I just have to go get camo paint and I'm finished."  And he says, "Oh!  I have camo paint... let me show you."  and I obediently follow.  While we're looking at camo paint, he says, "What kind of Marshmallow Shooters are these?  Not the adult kind, right?"  And I have a moment of confusion and I try to cover it quickly so I don't look like the dork I am, and I say all knowingly...."Hahahaha..ummm, no...these are for kids."...And after a slight pause, I add, "Sorry...it took me a moment...I spend A LOT of time with kids."   And he laughs and buys my excuse and says, "Yeah, for a moment that was like, (and does the that just flew over your head gesture) and I smiled and laughed like I totally got it.  And guess what?  I still am not fully sure what an adult marshmallow shooter is....I assume it has something to do with alcohol?  Idk.  But, how would you shoot a marshmallow?  Idk.  I'm confused.  Okay, having just googled "adult marshmallow shooter" I'm even more confused.  Do what??  Am I missing something?  There's no such thing?
Moving along...  I get to the front, and of course, there is maybe one register open, but OH LOOK!! the self check-out is open!  I love self-check out... you get to be the cashier, the bagger, and the customer...all at once.  It's an ooooohhh, shiny person's dream.  The kids are clamoring for some chips and because I'm a good mom....and also because I was thinking if they are eating in the car, I can listen to an entire song on the radio maybe without having to turn it down during the part I REALLY wanna sing.
So, I begin trying to scan the pvc pipe...and it's ten feet long, okay?  And I am hemmed in between the register and some barrels of something or another.  As I am trying to maneuver (as an aside, the ONLY way I can remember how to spell "maneuver" is to say out loud, "man-e-uver"...)  anyway, as I am trying to man-e-uver the pipe between the scanner and the barrels...wait, they were buckets... and the only way to fit the pipe up to the scanner was to slide the pipe into the crack between the bottom of the buckets.  (five gallon buckets....just for your mental picture.)  I get two scanned and I'm totally feeling it.... I'm even snapping my gum like I work there.  And, the kids start handing me stuff...  and it's messing up my system....they are handing me my contractor bags...cause I'm like, a cool contractor... and I'm trying to scan those...and their chips...and paint....and you KNOW I didn't finish scanning the pipes yet...and I say, "wait!!  dang....y'all...."...  And so, then they start getting their things out of the bags.  Seriously.  You know when you use the self-check out, it has some kind of star wars force that knows when you put the item in the bag and it ALSO knows when you remove something from said bag ....and to the self check out demon inside the computer, taking a scanned item that has been bagged OUT of the bag, is akin to going to the dark side.  So, it's flashing me warning signs on the screen, "Did you remove an item from the bag?"  And suddenly, it's like I'm in an interrogation room and the light is in my eyes, and I can smell the cigarette but I can't see the inquisitor.  And I'm starting to sweat.  And as I begin to say to child one, "STOP!  for the love of heaven, don't remove the chips from the bag!!"...child two is removing his bag....and child one is putting his back in the bag...and I'm thinking, Oh dear Lord..this is it... we're going to self check out hades because we're messing with the demon in the computer.  And it won't scan anymore items....and I look at the guy running the register close to me...and realize he's already looking at me....and not because he thinks I'm cute...  but, because he is a minion to the computer demon and he must heed it's command. He comes over, enters his secret password... (I tried really hard to act like I wasn't watching his fingers move across the numbers, but I'm pretty sure 666 was part of them)  He fixes our mistakes and I exhale and wrangle a few more pipes between the scanner and the buckets and notice there is now someone waiting behind me in line.  Nice.  I love it when I'm sweating and flushing and there's a spectator.  Makes it all life and death and cage fighting like.   So, I finish everything EXCEPT...there was no contractor bag for the thirty 1/2" end caps.  But, heck, I've got this now...I KNOW what I'm doing.  So, I pick up the first end cap and think I'll breeze my way through this and the lady behind me will be mesmerized by my efficiency and probably even ask me if I work there.  I run the first end cap across the scanner and ......nothing.  Nada.  Zilch.  The demon's red laser light doesn't even flicker.  NICE.  So, I roll it on the scanner.  I rub it on the scanner.  I grind it on the scanner.  Heck, I think I even licked it....just to get the dirt off.  Cause plumbers can get away with crap like that.  Nothing.  Danged end cap.  Must be a dud.  So, I pick up another end cap...I continue in this manner until I have about twenty end caps sitting in front of the demon....and only ONE scanned. By this time, I'm sweating like a mad dog...... my face is flushed...my eyes are dilated...  my hair is flying wildly about my head...  I'm looking around frantically thinking where in the freakin hades are the people who actually work here and why don't they notice my cry for help.  Also, several people who walked by, snickered.  One man did for sure...and tried to cover it up like a cough...PUNK!!  I know you snickered.  Anyway... finally one very exasperated looking employee comes over and tries to scan an end cap.  Yeah, seriously...I tried that, lady.  Anyway, she inserts her employee number...I didn't even hide the fact that I knew what she punched in.  *for future reference when I buy end caps...I WILL redeem myself, dang it...I have a demon pin number*  ok...I really don't.  So, she puts in the quantity and fixes it all up and we're finished.  And I roll my buggy out the door, cool, calm, and collected ...and pretend none of that really happened.  As far as you know, staring suckas, I scanned all those end caps myself.  Who's your momma?

1 comment:

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