Yesterday I went to Lowes before my mammogram.
Well, before that I went to the vet to get the dogs their food, to be precise. (I tend to like to be precise.) Their delicate tummies can’t eat anything else.
At Lowes I stood on the aisle that had hinges on it. The sideboard I’ve painted (yes, I let that slip didn’t I?) was pretty beat up. The screws fairly fell out of the doors.
My first thought was to simply not put the doors back on. And that may happen if what I got today doesn’t work. But I thought surely I could find a couple of hinges with appropriate screws.
No dice. They don’t make these hinges anymore. Well, of course not. Corporations don’t want you to be able to replace things. They want you to just chuck whatever it is and buy all new things.
Just fill up that landfill and keep right on chucking.
That wasn’t going to happen. I hauled this sideboard all the way from Tyler, Texas. Then again across town.
I got a wild hair a year or so ago and painted the red sideboard bright orange. Many of you will remember that. And probably sigh at my unfortunate decision to paint over the red.
I think I’ve sighed quite a few times over it myself.
It was a temporary wild hair when I suddenly became enamored of the bohemian style.
It was short-lived.
Anyway, back to the hinges and screws. (Told you my life isn’t the least bit exciting.)
I asked a man in Lowes to help me. He wasn’t much help a’tall, as my granny would have said.
So I see an older man (father) and younger man with him (son) just down the aisle about ten feet, and I approach them.
Then I had three men looking for screws that would work with the hinges I already had.
I had no idea (none a’tall) that it would be so darned hard to buy screws. I guess I thought they had bins and you just found the size you needed and put them in a little sack and bought them that way.
Like we did penny candy. Does anyone remember penny candy?
No, corporate America would not stand for that. You must buy them in odd-numbered packets (5) and then of course you have to buy more than you need to get the appropriate amount.
Like I need more screws. (I hope that didn’t sound distasteful. I didn’t mean it to (a’tall).
Either there were screws that were too short. Or too long. Or they had weird heads. Who knew there were so many kinds of screws?
I said, “Don’t they just make regular old flat-head screws like I took off of this thing?”
Well, no one could say. Why do these things have to be so difficult?
At that point my ankle is hurting and I sit on whatever is handy and let the three men (Lowes employee and father and son) hash it out.
Finally got that squared away. I can’t recall which kind of heads they unanimously agreed on. And I haven’t checked to see if they will work or not. Crossing my fingers.
Because I simply don’t think I can go back in there and stare at hundreds of different packets of screws. None of which appear to have a flat head like the ones I took off.
I head across town for my mammogram.
There was a real character in there. Think he was having something done due to his diabetes. He was not much older than I am. I know because he said.
He had this weird beard that went halfway down his chest and was sort of tied or twisted or something. I didn’t want to stare at him too long to figure out the strange configuration of his beard. I just know you could barely see his mouth.
The lady next to me was fool enough to encourage him and he told all of us women sitting there about his rich uncle who had taken him to Vietnam and all over the world.
Said he was a traveling man. Didn’t like to stay put.
Then he told us all about how he lived for four years on a boat tied up to some marina. Then went on to say that when one decides he no longer wants to live on the boat, that they haul it off somewhere and sell it for more money.
And then someone else gets to sit in the sun in the mornings with their coffee and watch the geese just like he did.
He was the security man for this lake, he said, which I guess paid for his monthly house boat fee.
Had a real deep gravelly voice. Mentioned that diabetes took half of one foot. And then explained exactly where your pancreas, kidneys and liver are. And which would probably be the one to go out first.
My name is finally called. The strange character has gotten whatever he needed done and is long gone.
Then I head for the grocery store. Because you know I’m going to try and get everything done in one fell swoop so I don’t have to go back out into traffic any time soon.
I went all over this store because it wasn’t my usual Reasor’s grocery store, but it was on the way home from where I was.
Darned if I didn’t have to go from one end to the other and then do it again to find what I needed. I think I may have passed myself a couple of times. (My feeble attempt at a joke.)
I got the fixings for a meat loaf, and I hope I can either figure out how to cook it in the Breville or the crock pot.
Oh, someone asked how I’m liking my Breville after almost two and a half years. And it’s still doing its job, I’m happy to report. And I use it most every day.
Then I had to pick out a birthday card for my daughter. And it was over near the pharmacy.
I had read online that you can clean your computer screen with half distilled water and half alcohol.
That stuff you buy to clean them is quite expensive. So I’m making my own. You mix it in a spray bottle. I’ll let you know how well it cleans.
My eyes just wouldn’t land on the alcohol, so I asked the pharmacist. Well heavens to Pete, he comes around and says they aren’t selling it yet.
I have no earthly idea what he’s talking about. And I can see from looking at his face that I have managed to miss something.
Well, he was waiting for me to figure it out and get the joke. Which you know I won’t ever get even if I stand there till the cows come home.
Finally he looks rather earnest and explains about this bill that was on the ballot about wine going into the stores. I don’t know which way the wind blew on that because I don’t drink and furthermore don’t care.
“Oh, it was a joke!” he says.
Socializing with people I don’t know is hard enough (and even with people I do know), but when they start out with a joke, I just want to go home and pull the covers over my head.
Maybe I should wear a sign around my neck that says I do not get jokes. So please spare us both and don’t bother to test those waters.
I won’t know the punch line. Ever. I will stand there and stare at you because I am clueless.
If I ever meet any of you in person, please do not tell me a joke.
Other than telling me a joke, I’d love to meet any of you. I wouldn’t mind that a’tall. Surely there is someone out there who remembers some relative that said this.
I promise it isn’t a joke.