I was born a semi-diva. I married a redneck. Through the magic of osmosis or just because of a serious lack of sophistication over the years I have found a balance of the two that make me who I am today. And then I write about it all, much to the chagrin of my mother.
Friday, April 05, 2013
The Helpful Place
I absolutely love going to Ace Hardware because they greet you at the door, ask you what you are looking for and immediately direct you to the aisle you need. Then as you walk away, they get all Secret Service-ish and speak softly into their mic, "I have a customer heading to Aisle 4 in need of a sink drain," like suddenly your plumbing needs are vital to national security.
Today I had several things I needed and was going to visit more than one aisle. I wasn't sure where to begin. We're getting ready to clean out the cellar in anticipation of 'Nader Season here in Oklahoma and there are brown recluse, black widows and wasps in there. With that many critters taking up residence in my 'Fraidy Hole, I'd rather take my chances with the twister. The kids and I had planned on de-bugging and cleaning it this weekend and I needed serious varmit destruction.
When the friendly greeter at the door said hello and asked what I needed today, smiling I said, "Oh.....I have a lot of things to pick up. I think I'll just go it alone." She smiled and said, "Great! Thank you for choosing Ace!" and as I walked away I heard her softly speak into her mic, "I have a female customer..... walking down the main aisle.....she's wearing a black sweater and says she has a LOT of things to buy. Someone find her and HELP HER!"
I was laughing so hard by the time I got to the spider traps because I had about four guys in red vests trailing me as I leisurely browsed each and every aisle between the front door and the pest aisle. A super nice guy with gorgeous silver hair "won" me when I finally stopped at the spider traps and after we visited about those horrible demonic vermin and squared that nasty bit of business away, I inquired about wasp traps.
He stepped in closer and his voice got low as he looked around. I felt like we were in an alley and he was going to offer to sell me a watch out of his vest. He literally looked over his shoulder twice before he finally said, "Well, I can sell you one of these here, but just last night on Facebook I saw the directions on how to make your own...."
When I got back to the car, the kids nearly in chorus asked, "THEY DIDN'T HAVE WASP TRAPS!?!?" (We might have some anxiety about wasps at our house...) I then told them about the silver-haired Facebooker and his homemade traps and how we, too, were going to make our own. They were completely unconvinced and one of them offered to pay for store-bought guarantees themselves.
Abby just shook her head and said, "Uh, Mom. You should've just totally friended him right there. That's what we teenagers do! Then you'd have the directions right there on your wall!"
Pest Control the Gen Y Zuckerberg way.
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1 comment:
Posts like this are why I need the internet. Now I can throw out the terms 'Nader and fraidy hole like a real Plains Stater.
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