The Home Depot Story

I had previously posted this story somewhere else, and someone asked me to repeat it.......so for the sake of poking fun at myself and exposing what very early withdrawal looked like for me.....I will once again share the Home Depot Story. I should also probably apologize (again) to my sweet hubby Jay. I don't know how he does it. :) The year was 2002 or 2003. Everybody, and I mean everybody had boarded the quit smoking train. My grandma had been the first to quit in the mid 90's and the rest of the family began following, one or two every year. At one time, we were ALL smokers except the children of course! They weren't purposeful smokers, they got their fix via second hand smoke. Anyhow, I suppose it may have been family pressure......I got really tired of listening to them fake-cough at me every time I lit up. I grew weary of the born-again-self-righteous reformed bunch who made it their mission to convert me. I was also somewhat lonely. I didnt have one smoking buddy left in my family. I reluctantly boarded the train. Choo-freaking-choo! I was angry, resentful and felt as if I had been backed into a corner and forced to quit smoking. I did it more to shut them up than anything else. I put no serious thought or planning into how I was going to manage it. I was prideful and stubborn, so there was NO way I was going to use the interventionists known as my family, as support. I don't really remember if it was day 2 or day 3 of no smoking, I just know that In was still in the throes of active withdrawal. I decided we needed new outdoor garbage cans, so I packed up my shopping mule (Jay) and off we went to Home Depot. I also seem to remember (or maybe thats just a way of justifying, in some small way, my abhorrent behavior) that it was a Saturday morning. A day where Home Depot should have been fully staffed. All checkouts should have been open, and all of the well-trained, incredibly helpful, orange apron clad staff should have been in every isle, waiting to help me with my every need. They were not. (Do you hear it......the tick of my inner bomb?) I make push and shove my way through the other shoppers, to find the garbage cans. I hastily decide on size, glance down at where the price should be displayed..........and........no price. NO PRICE!! (tick........tick........) Jay gently says "Who cares how much they are, we need them, right? Lets just grab two and get out of here." He is a wise man. I dont like Home Depot, and Im already getting anxious and itchy and.....and......and...... He grabs two cans and I attempt to grab two lids.....except there are no lids. What the hell?? Where are the lids?? I look up....wayyyyyyyy up.......and some idiot has put the lids on the top shelf. I am not 8ft 11". I cannot get my lids without help and a ladder. (tick....tick....tick......its getting louder. Do you hear it?) I have the beginning of a meltdown, right there in the garbage can isle. Jay, the smart man, the one who is NOT in reluctant nicotine withdrawal, gently says: "Oh hon....this is silly. Why dont we go home and I can pick up the garbage cans during the week when its not so busy?" I see right through him. And I am now in full-on 'this is an injustice!' mode. I will not be swayed! I march off in search of an orange apron clad employee. (TICK......TICK........TICK..........) Jay hides behind a pile of lumber. When I find the boy, it does not matter that he is probably only 16. It does not matter that this is probably his first job, that its not his department, that he looks happy and perky. I am about to ruin all of that. I let loose. (TICK......TICK......BOOM!) I go up one side of him and down the other. I gather up every poor customer service experience I have ever had, and I unload it on this boy. And I dont stop........until....... I happen to notice he has backed away a little bit and looks scared. Genuinely frightened. Of me. :blink: I am overcome with feelings of dread and shame and embarrassment. Oh my gosh......what have I done? I realize what is really going on. I have quit smoking and Im a miserable wench. I begin to apologize. Profusely. I babble something about quitting smoking......say Im sorry in every language I know...... (oh my gosh, he looks more scared now) I start to cry. I am so horrified. And its not a gentle cry. Oh no. Its the ugly cry. The cry that has snot running down your face. The manager comes to rescue his employee. And to firmly ask me to leave the store. Now. Jay comes out of hiding just in time to escort me out and save me from the humiliation of being escorted out by Home Depot security, if there is such a thing. Bless him, all he says as he marches me out is "I am never going to Home Depot with you again." "Good!" I say, as I wipe snot on my coat sleeve. "I hate Home Depot." There is no moral to this story. Other than....do NOT go to Home Depot on Day 2 or 3 of quitting smoking.