Rude blogger saves retarded paint department employee.
Tomorrow’s headline for the Los Angeles Times.
There are reasons I avoid going to Home Depot.
The main reason is, I have been completely unable to prove that they aren’t trying to get way too many tax breaks by hiring the mentally deficient.
Now I realize that, with a few exceptions, most people there are minimum wage and lucky to have it with their given job skills.
Kind of the modern day ditch diggers.
15 minutes seems a long time to stand at a counter while the paint guy makes and discards 4 different attempts to make the shade of paint the lady ahead of me wants.
I mean, the system is all automated, put in the paint code and they system does it for him.
That seems simple enough, right?
3 shades wrong and back to square one.
After messing with it for 5 minutes after that, he even unplugged the machine and restarted it.
The lady behind me left and then came back at the same time the announcement came over the PA for assistance in Paint.
Assistance? I want FEMA and some grief counselors for all this dead time.
As he was trying to remove a gallon of paint from the spinning machine, I found myself wishing that he would be successful in getting both hands around the can before it is done spinning and the machine tears his hand off.
It would be like a scene from an action movie.
He falls to the ground, screaming and clutching his stump.
I would vault the counter, applying a tourniquet using his Home Depot apron strings.
There you go, local hero.
Ok, so its a sick little daydream, but I really hate waiting.
Now, I realize that the knee jerk reaction of a lot of people is that “Well, if the rich corporation that owns Home Depot would pay more, they could hire better people”.
The sad reality is, no, it would just be the same scenario, but this moron would be making more money.
Not that I’m against someone making money, but I am against people being paid for being bad at their job.
Which explains my dislike of politicians in general.
Back to the paint counter.
In the end, from the moment I walked up and got in line, to the moment I walked away with properly mixed paint, 45 minutes had elapsed.
I might have discovered a cure for cancer, but we will never know now.
(Probably not, but is still within the realm of chance.)
However, and this is much more likely, I simply hate waiting and have a rude child’s mentality.
And whats not to love about that?