Why, Hardware Store?

A beautiful Sunday here in SF – the sun is shining, my teeth aren’t chattering, windows flung open to air out the smell of old-man and stale booze…  And as the sunlight pours into my apartment, I say to myself, “Jesus Christ, what a dump! Time to do some heavy-duty cleaning…”

First order of business is obtaining a sponge-mop (someone else used to be in charge of cleaning the kitchen floor and relied on a scrub brush apparently…  And I must say, it’s amazing what I used to consider “clean” in this place…  I turned a blind-eye to so many things…  But I digress…)  So, off I head to the hardware store, a smile on face and a spring in my step…  Until of course I actually leave my apartment and must interact with humanity…  There’s the usual five-abreast-slow-walkers, reeling drunks, ambling tourists…  Nothing too out of the ordinary, so I’m only simmering at this point…

I arrive at the hardware store and, after a brief flirtation with the Rubbermaid mop (“60% more absorbent!”), I settle on the Roll-O-Matic, persuaded by the combination of both sponge and scrubby-thingy…  I head to the cashier, knowing from past experience that it will take longer than it should…  Oh, if only I knew…  There’re 6 people ahead of me – and one of the cashiers is in the midst of signing up his customer for the frequent shopper card, so they can take advantage of 5% off their $30 purchase…  “Name? Address?  Phone number? Birthday? Just the year and month! Oh, wait you don’t live in the United States?  That’s OK…  So just fill out here…  and here…  and here…  And what’s your phone number?”

Oh my god…  This goes on interminably as the line grows longer and longer and my blood pressure climbs higher and higher…  Finally, the transaction is complete – and the cashier takes off to get change for his one other extremely slow-moving colleague…  There are about 18 people in line at this point…  And the person being rung up has about 28 items… Grrr…

So, finally the other cashier returns, ready to assist the next customer, who also has about 30 items in his basket. “Do you have a frequent shopper card?  OK, let me look it up…  What’s your phone number?  And your last name?  Hmmm, I’m not finding you…  Do you want to sign up again?  OK, name?  Address?  Phone number?” etc., ad infinitum…

What the hell is with people?  I mean, I blame the cashier for not simply refraining from pushing the loyalty program sign-up when there are 20 other people fuming waiting in line – but I actually blame the d’bag of a customer most.  Did you really need a 5% rebate on your $25 purchase a year from now?  Was that $1.25 really worth pissing off all the people behind you?  And you’re actually buying “naval jelly”?  Freak…

From there, I went to the Container Store – things went pretty smoothly, save for having my path blocked by some woman who thought it was simply adorable to be teaching her toddler how to walk in the main aisle…  and I refrained from giving the little tyke a poke with my newly-purchased mop…  See, I’m not a knee-jerk children-in-public hater – but c’mon parents – keep ’em out of my path…

The usual obstacle path back home…  But then I powered up iTunes to get some gay disco pumping and went at that kitchen floor like nobody’s business…  And now you could eat off that floor…  Well, OK, you’d only eat off the floor if the food being served were on a plate that was sitting on the floor – but still…  And now, bathroom, here I come…  Sunday, bloody Sunday…

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