One day I went to my local big box hardware store.
Let’s call it Rome Nemo…just cuz.
I’m in the aisle that has duct tape….coincidentally I was looking for, you guessed it, duct tape.
Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t the duct tape aisle have, you know…duct tape?
I swear, there was painter’s tape and masking tape and double-sided tape, but I could NOT find the duct tape.
One of Rome Nemo’s helpful handymen-in-aprons, this one about eighteen and sporting a Justin Bieber haircut, was walking behind me as I stared at the tape shelf. I saw him just as he was about to make a clean getaway, and said, “Excuse me, but I can’t find the duct tape.”
He stopped and turned to face me, but not before he’d erased the “stupid woman” look from his face.
He shuffled back to me, and with one incredibly long arm, pointed to a shelf about a foot over my head. There was the duct tape, but being a shorty, I hadn’t seen it…and I couldn’t reach it.
“There.” , he said dully.
“Wow, that’s up pretty high. Would you mind handing me a roll?” I asked as he was trying to leave.
He sulked back to me and grabbed a roll off the shelf.
At this point, he was beginning to get on my nerves…so I quickly hatched a plan to exact a modicum of revenge on him.
“And, while I’m at it…”I began, “..can you tell me where to get some of those..um..waddayoucallem? Zip ties?”
“Aisle 743A.” He replied, backing up.
“Oh, and some really strong rope. And those big heavy-duty trash bags. You know the kind that you could fit…maybe, someone your size in?”
At this point, helpful-handyboy was beginning to inventory my requests in his head.
I could literally see the color drain from his face.
He stammered, “Ummm…uh….I don’t…..” as his feet picked up their backwards pace.
I smiled, sweetly, this little granny in the duct tape aisle, as he turned and fairly ran into a display of ….you guessed it…duct tape.
Sometimes, it’s good to be evil, twisted…me.