Now if I was looking for an actual tool then I know I would have to go into the mini store located within the Home Depot store called the “Tool Corral” which has its own separate cash register. I’m not sure what made all these tools so unruly that they needed to be herded up and corralled into a separate store all together within the main store… but I’m sure they must have been way out of line… except maybe the laser levelers. God forbid you need assistance in the “Tool Corral” because you have less of a chance of getting help in there then you do of getting out of this store sane and alive which is a long shot at best. The only person in the “Tool Corral” is a creature at the register vaguely resembling a human being who is staring into the laser scanner in wonder, like a mesmerized moth.

I also know that if I needed lumber of any kind I would have to get it myself using a handy dolly with only one functioning wheel, of which there are two of in the whole store… but unfortunately one of them is being used by the staff to transport items to be stocked later once the staff member remembers where they left it which likely will never ever happen. Unless I just happen to be building something with the exact lengths and widths of the lumber in stock, which is unlikely, invariably I would need it cut. Of course since no one living is around, I have to cut it myself at the “cutting station” with something that vaguely resembles the sad memory of what a saw used to be, which if you look closely has a few drops of blood and some hair on it. To make matters easier the now long-dead sad saw is attached to the same kind of chain they use to anchor air craft carriers to the dock with… apparently so the saw doesn’t walk away. I guess this is all part of that whole tool imprisonment corral theme that goes on there.

Occasionally there is the random frightened older person who actually asks me in desperation where something in the store is… not because I am wearing an orange apron or anything, but because they are old and wise and thus know they have a much higher probability actually getting a correct answer from a total stranger who doesn’t technically work there then finding and asking an actual employee, of which there are none to be found who are by traditional definition… “alive.”

“Paint? Oh that is in aisle twelve.” I politely reply to the scared and intimidated geriatric person, of course all the while thinking of my own little old grandmother who would be similarly in need.

Big mistake! Because I have now demonstrated a functioning brain cell in this vast warehouse of vacant minds. Immediately, no less than eight people (on their way to zombie conversion) descend on me like they have just realized that they forgot to eat my brain and I somehow slipped through the cracks by accident. In a desperate act of survival I instantly throw my arms out in front of me… perpendicular to my body… palms down and level with the floor and start chanting in a monotone vapid tone, “This isn’t my section… this isn’t my section… this isn’t my section… this isn’t my section.”

Looking dejected, the crowd disperses and I aimlessly Frankenstein-walk away to the next aisle just to escape the inquisitive wrinkled horde. Low and behold I have found all of the actual Home Depot staff standing there in the “Hardware” aisle starring blankly up at the wall of nuts, bolts and nails… more then likely because they are shiny and bright. Wait… the nails… they are here! Without any sudden movements around so many obvious undead creatures and a wall of sharp pointy objects, I quickly locate the box of nails I need and stagger out of the aisle so as not to draw any attention to myself as a living being.

I find my way to the main set of cash registers which seem to be opening and closing in mayhem, akin only to the movement of piranhas devouring a cow that wandered too close to an Amazonian stream. The cashiers seem to be randomly leaving their stations and other registers are opening elsewhere creating a Thunderdome-like atmosphere amongst the customers. People… or what are now the empty shells of once vibrant people… are clamoring over each other in a mob-like mentality to get to the newly opened registers before they close once again unexpectedly. I suspect this behavior is to create a gauntlet-like situation that discourages anyone from ever leaving the store and thus being trapped there forever only to be later devoured by the staff. Several of the “people in line” (and I use that phrase loosely for many reasons) are blankly staring at the wall of batteries that are strategically placed at every register if only to slow a stampede of the almost living with something that they have all been told they need lots of, in case of a survival emergency. I grab a handful of batteries off the rack and throw them in the other direction to avert their attention as they go mindlessly chasing after them moaning something about the apocalypse. I take the scanner out of the hand of the dazed and confused decoy like statue that has been placed at the register instead of an actual human cashier and scan my box of nails and swipe my card in the little machine. When the machine asks for my signature I quickly scratch it violently with my finger to closely resemble what would have come out had I actually signed it with that electronic pen… which is missing of course, likely gnawed away and swallowed by one of the employees. I sprint past the creature standing by the exit that only wakes and flinches when the alarm goes off clearly indicating NOT that a tool has escaped the oh so secure corral, but rather that a customer was about to escape the building with what they actually came here for. Leaping over all the empty propane canisters blocking the exit I somersault onto the sidewalk into a ray of warm sunshine. I pick myself up and clean off the layer of dust that had covered me which most people think just comes from being in a Home Depot but few realize is actually a sign of how LONG you have been inside. I confidently stride to my parked car mentally noting all the people going into the store happily talking about their exciting new projects. As I get in my car and start to drive off I realize the plethora of people that are going in… is in stark contrast compared to no one coming out.

I am just happy to be a survivor.

————

Andrei says: “Ah. Well… I attended Juilliard… I’m a graduate of the Harvard business school. I travel quite extensively. I lived through the Black Plague and had a pretty good time during that. I’ve seen the EXORCIST ABOUT A HUNDRED AND SIXTY-SEVEN TIMES, AND IT KEEPS GETTING FUNNIER EVERY SINGLE TIME I SEE IT… NOT TO MENTION THE FACT THAT YOU’RE TALKING TO A DEAD GUY… NOW WHAT DO YOU THINK? You think I’m qualified? Basically I am the most sarcastic person you could ever meet and God help you if you take me too seriously.”

No, I instead have chosen to volunteer for large ultra-profit, soul sucking corporations and businesses almost exclusively it seems and thus I just don’t have time anymore for the sick, the elderly, or the environment.  I am an active volunteer at almost every major store I go to these days because I feel strongly that I can offer much more to the needy customer (in this case me) by doing everything myself thereby leaving the staff to do more important things like texting their friends or chatting on the cell phone to loved ones. The place I do the bulk of my volunteer work though is at the grocery store. I am of course referring to the “Self Checkout” line.

Grocery stores and even a few other non-food item stores have implemented a volunteer program for their customers, which provides the unique opportunity to give back to the mega soul sucking super store by happily volunteering your time doing various activities that used to occupy the valuable time of their employees. They have in a stroke of pure genius gotten the entire community involved in a way that even the Spotted Owl campaign has failed to do. By deliberately hiring complete and total half wits that take forty five minutes to ring up and bag your groceries, they have mobilized the community like no other volunteer organization has done to date to pitch in and help out where it is so obviously needed. Today you can take the exhaustive and heavy burden of scanning items into a computer off the staff and step up and do your part for once. They even have finally convinced us all to bag our own groceries spearheaded by their cunning promotion of flat squashed bread and broken eggs… it is a long time in the making but we are finally there!

If you are one of those EXTRA generous Americans who decided to enroll in the “Produce Ripening” volunteer program at your local grocery store then you get bonus volunteer recognition! Yes it is hard to believe that such huge soulless corporations can provide this much to the community in the way of volunteer work but it is true.  If you have a mere weeks worth of extra time on your hands you can buy green tomatoes, bananas, and even petrified pears which you ripen yourself. This not only gives back to the mega soul sucking super store in many ways but also cuts the transportation costs in addition to reducing traffic on the roads. Think about it people… by selfishly buying a red tomato that arrived at the store that day you have callously demanded that there be a truck on the road with your ripe tomato in it earlier that night. However if you buy a rock hard green tomato that got shipped weeks before it was ripe then they can ship an entire crop of un-ripened tomatoes using just one truck every so often when the tomatoes are big enough, thereby reducing traffic in your community. Your sacrifice also allows those drivers to spend more time standing on the side of the roads with cardboard signs desperately encouraging other community members to give, instead of driving on those roads every day for your selfish produce needs!  It’s called “Buying Green” people… Ever heard of it?! They have even made it super convenient for you to purchase your produce at the “Self Checkout” line. For instance you only have to spend and extra twenty five minutes scrolling through every kind of lettuce on the planet to find the one you have decided to make a salad with that week. You also get that feeling of accomplishment when you finally find out that it is called “Leaf Lettuce” as apposed to all those other kinds of lettuces that apparently don’t have leaves.

Lately I actually kind of feel guilty with so many others doing so much for their mega soul sucking corporations because I have recently and quite selfishly decided to only eat produce that starts with the first three letters of the alphabet. I have made this personal decision in order to split my time between work, the grocery store AND my family instead of just devoting all of my time to my paid and now volunteer work. I know it isn’t in the volunteer and giving spirit of things but what can I say… I guess I am just selfish and want that extra time with my wife and the kids. Yup, it is only Apples, Bananas and Carrots for me and my family because I simply don’t have the extra volunteer time that other non-working parents do to scroll through that screen alphabetically to find my produce. I mean after all I still have to pay full price for my grocery bill even though I am volunteering my time. It breaks my heart when my daughter looks into my eyes and asks why the other kids get to eat Yams and she doesn’t but I simply explain to her that Yams start with the letter “Y” and Daddy has to work, in addition to helping out at the grocery store. I try and compensate her though by letting her play with my seventeen bonus cards from all the various stores… I figure it is the least I can do since I don’t have any room in my wallet for her pictures because of them all. She always asks me in her oh so adorable youthful innocence, “Daddy why don’t the stores just make things cheaper instead of making all these cards?” I wisely reply with, “Because Peanut, This way we have a sense of belonging to the grocery store as a community instead of simply shopping there… that is why we spend so much time volunteering there instead of outside playing in the sunshine.”

Recently our soul sucking mega corporation grocery store has taken their community based volunteer program to that extra level with a new program. Upon entering the store you are instantly able to volunteer your time by picking up your very own scanner and set of bags. As you shop you can scan the items and place them into the bag on the move thereby also helping with the mega store’s inventory tracking process. To make it exciting for the whole family, the scanner’s digital screen randomly displays one of ten savings (on things you aren’t buying) that is on top of your bonus card savings. The display of these items you weren’t going to purchase and still aren’t, are accompanied by an exciting “CHA CHING!” Not only does this provide you with the entertaining option to stare down at a screen while navigating your cart but it allows you the rare opportunity to introduce yourself to other community members in the store after apologizing to them for ramming your cart into their shins… too bad Ace Bandages never seem to be one of the ten extra saving options. At the very least though it allows the whole store to acknowledge you as a volunteer employee… every 2 minutes… CHA CHING! CHA CHING! CHA CHING!

Personally I am not entirely sure about this new feature because all your purchased items are then already in bags, and in your cart, which takes away a great deal from the community based personal interactions. For instance every single item you purchase is no longer shouted out at the “Self Checkout “by a SUPER AMPLIFIED computerized voice for every one else in the store to hear and discuss. I kind of appreciated the fact that every one in the store knew whenever I was buying hemorrhoid cream; it saved me the trouble of running around and telling everyone in person. The new program does however help you avoid having to create that huge tower of merchandise on the one-foot by one-foot tiny scale at the end of the “Self Checkout” line that if you breathe on the wrong way goes unbalanced. While at first glance it appears that this is better for our grocery store community because we don’t have to waste the time of that last remaining actual “working” employee, whose sole job it is to come over and clear that locked screen for us volunteers… I would argue that I have built some lasting and true bonds with some of the other volunteers in the fifteen minutes it takes that poor lone working employee to come over and press a button. My daughter however will invariably one day argue FOR the new program since she was crushed under a falling tower of groceries last month that was carefully balanced on the tiny scale at the end of the “Self Checkout” lane, but on the other hand… I did meet her reconstructive plastic surgeon in that very same line while waiting the fifteen minutes for the employee to come unlock the screen so we could leave with our groceries for the emergency room. I guess the jury is still out on that one. Besides, I told her it was really her fault since she looked at the scale wrong sending it into unbalance and then lockdown mode.

————

Andrei says: “My name is Andrei Trostel and APPARENTLY I work for the grocery store… and I’m at MY service!”

“Coffee Lid Sip Hole Plug Stopper Starbucks Lid”

(Picture added for those of you who think I made up the name)

This ultra clever little mass produced piece of plastic is designed to plug the tiny little two centimeter hole that you are SUPPOSED to drink your coffee from. Well it is about time Starbucks!!!! I can’t tell you how many shirts that I have ruined when I took my coffee on the looping roller coaster rides at King’s Dominion! I also remember my trip to California when that 8.6 on the Richter scale hit and my coffee shot out of that hole badly burning my left eye! In addition, my sudden spastic epileptic like ticks that occasionally occur won’t be such a perilous coffee situation any more. All thanks to the thoughtful people at Starbucks who made the “Coffee Lid Sip Hole Plug Stopper Starbucks Lid” (or C.L.S.H.P.S.S.L. for…. um… short).

I know that some haters out there might point out that there is a certain conundrum involved with the logic of this little piece of plastic. For instance, those who are SO on the go that they can’t drink coffee out of a two centimeter hole without spilling it probably aren’t then in the position to remove a little piece of plastic from the hole in order to take a sip. However honestly people, does anyone really adhere to that ten and two rule of driving anymore?! For instance, I know in my case I drive in a Zen like lotus position to reduce the possibility of road rage. This makes it possible for me to steer with my knees while I hold my cell phone with my right foot and text with my left foot. My left hand holds my coffee while my right hand is free to replace the C.L.S.H.P.S.S.L. in between sips so I don’t accidentally burn myself. All I can say is thank god for cruise control… otherwise I might have to actually sit down somewhere stable to drink my hot coffee. I am totally looking forward to getting one of those “Borg” like Bluetooth head sets for my cell phone… that way I can use my right foot for the brake pedal in the future which should result in an overall lower stress level while driving.

I can also already hear all the whiney bleeding heart hippies out there complaining about millions of non-biodegradable pieces of plastic that will undoubtedly remain on Earth for thousands of years but seriously people they are “GREEN” I’m sure no one will ever even notice them!!! Plus if you are SO interested in “Reduce / Reuse / Recycle” then you could always save it and carry it around in your pocket for your next Starbucks adventure. Oh and for the men out there in case you are wondering… don’t worry… a punctured scrotum doesn’t make you sterile… I have two kids and I keep my C.L.S.H.P.S.S.L. in my pocket at all times because there is nothing worse then a drop of hot liquid on your hand when you are enjoying a nice cup of coffee… while doing back flips.

————

Andrei says: “Ah. Well… I attended Juilliard… I’m a graduate of the Harvard business school. I travel quite extensively. I lived through the Black Plague and had a pretty good time during that. I’ve seen the EXORCIST ABOUT A HUNDRED AND SIXTY-SEVEN TIMES, AND IT KEEPS GETTING FUNNIER EVERY SINGLE TIME I SEE IT… NOT TO MENTION THE FACT THAT YOU’RE TALKING TO A DEAD GUY… NOW WHAT DO YOU THINK? You think I’m qualified? Basically I am the most sarcastic person you could ever meet and God help you if you take me too seriously.”