Monday, December 31, 2012

Duck, Quack! Not Gorilla, Grr.



Mrs. Snark dreads entering big box stores. Not because they are crowded or confusing, but rather because Mr. Snark is struck by irresistible wanderlust the moment he crosses the threshold. The man is like a randy tomcat with the seven mile itch.

On a lazy afternoon, Mrs. Snark entered Home Despot with her spouse and child. Miss Bear rode in the cart, contentedly banging away on her new Christmas present, a child pacification device called an InnoTab2. Even though he appeared content to walk beside her, Mrs. Snark watched the mister with a certain inevitable fatalism, knowing he would escape but determined to prevent it from happening.

"Welcome to Home Despot," greeted the friendly man in the orange apron. "Can I help you find anything?"

"Yes, thank you. We're looking for disposable batteries," Mrs. Snark said.

The clerk's eyebrows climbed like Mr. Spock on a fascinating binge. "Disposable, as in one use and then throw them away?"

Mrs. Snark blushed. "Sorry, rechargeable."

"The end cap on register 7."

"Okay, thanks! End cap, aisle 7."

"Register 7!"

"Right! Thanks!"

Mrs. Snark turned back to Mr. Snark, mouth open to speak. She blinked and froze.

BAM! Gone!

Frantic, she glanced about, thinking to catch a glimpse of Mr. Snark but he had vanished. Mrs. Snark spun in a circle, calling, "Mr. Snark? Where are you?"

No sign of the man. Not even a cloud of settling dust marked his departure.

With a sigh of despair, Mrs. Snark committed to a grid pattern search of the big box facility, pushing the cart containing Miss Bear before her. She walked up and down aisles, and then returned along rows, looking the whole time for the missing man.

Miss Bear grew worried. Her baby blue eyes filled with tears. "Da-da!" she cried. "Da-da!"

On the verge of despair, Mrs. Snark returned to the customer service desk. "Excuse me," she said to the manager. "I need for you to announce that Mr. Snark is missing. If anyone finds him, please return him to the service desk. Miss Bear and I miss him very much."

Naturally, right at that moment--lo and behold!

Mr. Snark appeared.

"Do you have everything?" Mr. Snark asked.

"I took one of every kind of rechargeable battery because you weren't here to ask," Mrs. Snark said, pointing to the half dozen packages in the cart. "And I still need duck tape."

"Duct tape." Mr. Snark escorted Mrs. Snark to and end cap full of a heavy duty silver tape bearing a gorilla on the packaging.

"No," Mrs. Snark said, speaking slowly in order to be understood. "I want the original DUCK tape. Gorilla tape won't do."

Mr. Snark's face turned red but a helpful man in an orange apron helped her locate the correct tape. Clutching a double roll, destined for her zombie apocalypse survival kit, Mrs. Snark headed for the check stand.

Another successful trip to Home Despot!

4 comments:

  1. I believe that these stores have some type of siren's call that is subliminally sent over the speaker system. Women can't hear it, only men. It put them into a trance and guides them to power tools.

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    1. Sandra, I'd totally buy that in a heartbeat. LOL

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  2. I laughed the whole way. My hubby can disappear faster than David Copperfield in a home improvment store, too. Don't worry, they always find you.

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    1. Ilona, It makes you want to put an electronic tracker on them, doesn't it? I'm always, "Where'd you go? I've been through the whole store." And the man claims he spent the entire time in one section trying to make a plumbing decision. :)

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