Olde Square Inn

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May 24, 2016

The Day I Mooned Home Depot

Posted by: Nancy Skee

Without a doubt, I’m a nester and love to enhance my living spaces. Put me in a big cardboard box and I’ll draw in curtains. Put me under a tree and I’ll clear a floor space and arrange a seating area with logs and woodland greenery. Put me in a house and show me a hardware store sale, and I’ll improve everything that is actually fine the way it is. You know what I mean.

Before trading in my Cape Cod for an Inn, I had wanted to redo the kitchen in the home, and everything was on a sale at Home Depot. I donned my shopping/working clothes - those outfits that allow you to go out in public without looking like you dressed from the rag bag, yet are worn in enough to allow freedom of movement and freedom from worry that you’ll ruin your new shirt when a can of paint or a rake might fall on you. I chose my broken-in stretchy jeans and a short summer top, grabbed my wallet and headed off.

We all work hard for our money, and I’m a very careful shopper: I compare prices, inspect quality, and make sure my dollar does its best. I had spent a good hour and a half in the store bending in for closer looks and stretching to get the things on the top shelves, so to fill my cart with well-chosen, value-driven home improvement items. It was time consuming, but I was almost ready to check out.

About that time a male clerk walked up to me. I had noticed he'd been following me for a while. “Um, miss, um….you, um, have a hole in the back of your pants. You might want to um, check.” I made a quick pass along the back seam of my jeans and detected nothing. “Uh, no…um…you should, um, maybe…go into the ladies’ room? And check?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m checking out now anyway. No worries.”

“You should go to the ladies’ room right now.”

Something in his eyes made me decide to high-tail it (there’s a joke in that, you’ll see) to the ladies’. I stood, back to the mirror, and turned and felt my face go red from the sheer horror of what I saw. “Hole” was an understatement. There was a rip in my stretchy jeans all across my backside that revealed itself every time I moved or reached or bent.

That was bad enough, but to add insult to injury, the briefs I was sporting that day were the kind that were named after those little sandals that go between your toes that we now call flip flops. So essentially, every time I moved to select or inspect an item, I was exposing myself to anyone from one end of the store to the other who didn’t shield his eyes in time.

Oh, brother. How to get out of  the ladies' room - let alone the store - without getting arrested? I wasn't about to rush out and leave all the things I needed for my project, yet my top was too short to pull down to cover my breeziness. I wasn't even carrying a purse that I could sling across my rip. I cleverly decided to cozy up to the cart and pull it behind me rather than push it. No mean fete with everything piled in it.

I went through the check-out line glued to the cart then dragged all my stuff backwards to my car. I opened the trunk and  moved myself into the safety of the space, endeavoring to load everything while  sitting on the back bumper and thinking about the guy who had enough nerve to tell me about My Condition. Just then two boys ran up in their orangey uniform aprons. "Need some help, ma'm? Hee hee, hee hee," asked Bevis.

"Yah, need some help? Hee hee," asked the other. Probably an innocent and kind gesture, but I was all jacked up and didn't take it that way. The look I gave boys was enough to send them running off, though I remember I was so mad that I wanted yell something ignorant and scare them with a parting shot, so to speak. I had, however, done enough damage for the day and kept it in check.

In retrospect, this had been worse than The Day I Looked Like A Lunatic, which makes me think I had better pay better attention to what I'm doing when I go into Home Depot. As far as they go, I already have two strikes and we know what happens at three. But hey, there's still Lowe's, Ace Hardware, J. B. Hosteler and others who would welcome my business. What a great country we live in!

To sew this up (ha ha, get it?!) as you work on your own projects this Memorial Day holiday and gather with your families, don't forget to honor those who have protected our freedom and kept our country great. And take a tip from me: please be sure you check your looks in the mirror  from all angles before you head off anywhere.

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