The Big Orange Aprons
I hate Home Depot. I guess I don’t hate the idea of Home Depot, just the store itself. I hate the false promises of the commercials – that I will walk into the store with little expertise and big dreams (that’s kind of true) and that I will be instantly flocked to by helpful, smiley Home Depot employees proudly sporting orange aprons and wanting nothing more than to teach me all there is to know about (insert current home improvement project here).
Well, I remember when Mark and I decided to build our first wood-working project together – the record shelf – and we went to Home Depot to get supplies. We wandered aimlessly up and down aisles, not only not finding what we needed, but kind of uncertain what it was we were searching for and with no one to help us anywhere. Finally, after at least an hour of the torture, we abandoned our half-filled shopping cart and went to a good old local Home Hardware store where we were served and assisted instantly.
I always took that experience with a grain of salt. It could happen at one store (in Peterborough) for one project on any given day. But that’s no reason to shun a whole corporation who does make home renovations look extremely gratifying and fun in the commercials.
So I went to Home Depot yesterday. And I wandered for a bit on my own, determined to not NEED help. I soon realized that I wasn’t supposed to be pushing a shopping cart – what I actually needed was an orange trolley for wood. So I pushed THAT around for a while, and I found about a quarter of the wood I needed for the project I wanted to tackle from the book “The Complete Guide to Easy Woodworking Projects”. Then I realized I needed assistance. So I went to a cashier and asked if there was anyone who could help me. She paged someone and told me he’d be there soon. I waited. And waited. And waited. I could feel my pulse speeding up. I felt my blood pressure rising. I began to feel anxious. I stared at the project instructions in the book and became more and more confused. I tried to figure out the cost of the raw materials for the project, crunching numbers I didn’t have because I couldn’t locate them in the store. The cashier saw I was agitated. She paged the orange apron-ed helper again. I waited some more. I began to curse Home Depot under my breath (hence the first beginnings of this very blog entry).
FINALLY, a skinny fifteen year old in an orange apron appeared magically in front of me. I showed him the pieces I needed and asked if they had them. He took me to the place where I’d been searching. He asked me if I needed “actual” sizes or “nominal” sizes. I said I didn’t know what he’d just said. He just stared at me blankly and said he didn’t think they had the sizes I needed. I pointed to the bottom of my instructions where it said, “sizes commonly stocked by most wood supply stores”. He shrugged and said I should go to a REAL lumber store. I asked, “Do you know of any?” He said, “Nope. Just go home and look it up in a phone book or on the Internet.”
I went home fuming mad. I looked up “lumber stores” on the Internet.
What do you think came up?
Home Depot.
I hate Home Depot. I guess I don’t hate the idea of Home Depot, just the store itself. I hate the false promises of the commercials – that I will walk into the store with little expertise and big dreams (that’s kind of true) and that I will be instantly flocked to by helpful, smiley Home Depot employees proudly sporting orange aprons and wanting nothing more than to teach me all there is to know about (insert current home improvement project here).
Well, I remember when Mark and I decided to build our first wood-working project together – the record shelf – and we went to Home Depot to get supplies. We wandered aimlessly up and down aisles, not only not finding what we needed, but kind of uncertain what it was we were searching for and with no one to help us anywhere. Finally, after at least an hour of the torture, we abandoned our half-filled shopping cart and went to a good old local Home Hardware store where we were served and assisted instantly.
I always took that experience with a grain of salt. It could happen at one store (in Peterborough) for one project on any given day. But that’s no reason to shun a whole corporation who does make home renovations look extremely gratifying and fun in the commercials.
So I went to Home Depot yesterday. And I wandered for a bit on my own, determined to not NEED help. I soon realized that I wasn’t supposed to be pushing a shopping cart – what I actually needed was an orange trolley for wood. So I pushed THAT around for a while, and I found about a quarter of the wood I needed for the project I wanted to tackle from the book “The Complete Guide to Easy Woodworking Projects”. Then I realized I needed assistance. So I went to a cashier and asked if there was anyone who could help me. She paged someone and told me he’d be there soon. I waited. And waited. And waited. I could feel my pulse speeding up. I felt my blood pressure rising. I began to feel anxious. I stared at the project instructions in the book and became more and more confused. I tried to figure out the cost of the raw materials for the project, crunching numbers I didn’t have because I couldn’t locate them in the store. The cashier saw I was agitated. She paged the orange apron-ed helper again. I waited some more. I began to curse Home Depot under my breath (hence the first beginnings of this very blog entry).
FINALLY, a skinny fifteen year old in an orange apron appeared magically in front of me. I showed him the pieces I needed and asked if they had them. He took me to the place where I’d been searching. He asked me if I needed “actual” sizes or “nominal” sizes. I said I didn’t know what he’d just said. He just stared at me blankly and said he didn’t think they had the sizes I needed. I pointed to the bottom of my instructions where it said, “sizes commonly stocked by most wood supply stores”. He shrugged and said I should go to a REAL lumber store. I asked, “Do you know of any?” He said, “Nope. Just go home and look it up in a phone book or on the Internet.”
I went home fuming mad. I looked up “lumber stores” on the Internet.
What do you think came up?
Home Depot.
No comments:
Post a Comment