Monday, June 9, 2008

The Power of a Blank Stare.

I went on a little shopping trip the other day looking for a pot to put a plant in. I have such a brown thumb, but somehow, I can't seem to kill philodendrons, so the little suckers are greening up my house all over the place. I decided to look at Target. No luck. So I went across the street to the big orange box, Home Depot. I figure, huge home improvement store, should have what I am looking for in the garden department. Silly me.

So I walk into the store and on my way out to the garden department, I see this handy little grabber tool. It is designed to pick up trash or aluminum cans, but I figure it will work for toys as well. (I have this little problem...I seem to pass out anytime my head goes lower than my ass. Bending over...not such a great idea for me.) I grab one out of the box and continue out to the garden area. For the life of me, no matter how high or low I looked, I couldn't find a pot without a huge hole in the bottom. See the way I keep my little plants alive is by drowning them once a month and forgetting about them the rest of the time. (The masochistic little fuckers must love it cause they haven't gotten up and walked out on me yet.)

It was way too hot to wander outside for long, and I didn't see any employees falling all over themselves to come to my aid (they aren't stupid, they were all inside where it was nice and air conditioned) so I went back into the store to look around and see if there was anything I desperately needed while I was in there. You never know when the mood to own some random tool will strike. Plus...in all honesty, I was hoping to run into the husband of a friend so I could razz her later about seeing her husband more often than I see her. (That problem has since been remedied, she hung out with me for a whole day this past weekend. Ain't guilt great? Choo Choo!)

So anyway, I was walking through the store and I was thinking, the toilet seat at home is broken, AGAIN. (I have bad luck with buying really cheap toilet seats and then breaking them in odd ways...it's a quirk.) I should replace it! I should replace it with something similar to that toilet seat we had in our room at that nice resort that we stayed at on vacation.

My daughter actually sat on the potty almost everyday in an attempt to potty train while we were on vacation. The seat was narrow and she wasn't afraid of falling in, unlike most seats where her little butt just falls right through for a little cold dip. She can't use the little potty training seats anymore, either, cause her butt is now too big. BUTT, I digress.

So I started walking and looking up at all the aisle signs trying to locate the plethora of toilet seats that I am sure they offer. I am not sure if it was the blank stare with a cocked head or the fact that I wasn't paying attention but suddenly an employee popped up in front of me and asked me what I was looking for. (Hey, that's a neat little trick!) Toilet seats I tell him. He points back in the direction that I came from and told me...

"Back that way, third aisle on the left, middle of the aisle."

Okie Dokie...and off I went to find a toilet seat. Walked down to the third aisle on the left, turned down the aisle...and low and behold...no toilet seats. None. Hmm. So I stand there a second, and think to myself, let me try out a theory. I cock my head to the side....glaze my eyes into a blank stare....POOF! There is a another employee right in front of me to assist in my seat hunting excursion. (Hey, that's a neat little trick...kinda funny...kinda.) She asks me what I am looking for, and I tell her toilet seats. She tells me I am one aisle off, and to follow her. (Thanks for the spot on directions, first poofy employee.) After she leads me to the VAST selection of seats, she asked me if I needed any help in selecting one. I told her thanks, but no thanks, I was just going to look around and was pretty sure about what I wanted. She smiled and walked away. (Probably back to whatever employee holding area where they keep them all until someone gets a blank stare on their face and needs assistance....then an employee just pops up like some kind of cosmic employee vending machine. Creepy.)

So I am perusing the varied assortment of toilet seats and I notice that some seats are narrower than others. I think to myself, I should probably measure to make sure I get the most narrow so that potty training this summer will be no sweat! (Yeah right, I am convinced she will be in diapers til she is 20 at this rate.) I need a tape measure...and hey, what do ya know! I am in the perfect store to find a tape measure! Let's try out that theory again...cock head, blank stare. Nothing. Maybe I need to be closer to the end of the aisle. So I walked to the end of the aisle. (Remember I am still holding a grabby thingie and I make sure to note what aisle I am on so I can get back to the right aisle. Gee thanks, second poofy employee!)

At the end of the aisle I assumed the position again. Cocked head, blank stare. POOF! Another helpful employee suddenly appears before me! (Hey, that's a neat little...actually...no, at this point it is just downright weirding me out.) He asks me what I am looking for, and I tell him tape measures. He tells me to follow him and we walk down to the aisle where all the tape measures live. He then starts by asking me what kind of tape measure I need and what project am I working on. He was gearing up to go into a nice long-winded sales pitch on tape measures. I could tell because he had a look on his face that was just WAY too excited to be about tape measures, AND the little "long-winded sales pitch" hairs on the back of my neck were standing at attention. I tell the man that I just needed the tape measure to go measure the width of a toilet seat and I had no plans on actually purchasing a tape measure. He backed up and looked at me like I had just asked him if I could tie him up with bungee cords and lick the back of his knees. As he kept backing away from me, (looking like I just asked to eat his face for dinner) I told him that I was great and didn't need any more assistance, and thanked the trail of smoke he left from running away from me as fast as he could.

I grabbed a tape measure and made my way back to the toilet seats. Making sure to keep my head level and my eyes down so as not to summon any more stepford employees from the cosmic vending machine. I selected a seat that was the most narrow AND had a Lifetime Guarantee! (Score!) I then took my toilet seat and my grabby thingy and made my way back to the tape measure colony to set my little borrowed friend free. (Eyes down, head level, eyes down, head level...) I went to the only register that was open to purchase my two items, and there at the checkout was the first normal looking employee I had seen in the whole damn store. I smiled and she started to ring me up. She asked if I was satisfied with my shopping experience and if I found everything I needed. I told her yes, that I was buying the grabby thingy to help pick up toys and the toilet seat to try to help my daughter potty train. She asked me how that was going and I confided in her that it was not going so well and that I had tried almost every potty training trick in the book.

Her face brightened. I should have run. She started telling me about a niece she has that had the same problem and had I tried having a poopy party? HUH? She went on to explain that a poopy party was just like a birthday party. Get a cake and balloons and streamers and presents and have a little party in the bathroom. When the child "Gives Birth" to the poop (I couldn't make this up if I tried, people) I should throw a party and celebrate. Name the poop, flush it, blow out the candles, and open the presents. I had already paid at this point...so I started backing away from this chick slowly...I swear it looked like she was drooling a little and was about to eat my face. As I was running out the door I hear....

"I need a price check on bungee cords at register one, please."

5 comments:

Feisty Irish Wench said...

As the wife of the previously mentioned employee...I just HAVE to comment. Plus you are my friend and if I fail to do so, I'd hate to think of the horrible things that would become of me for neglecting this post. My bags are still packed from the last guilt trip. It's all just dirty laundry now though.

As for the philodendron, get one of those clear plastic plate things that is supposed to go UNDER the pot. Put it inside the pot under all the dirt. Or get a heavy duty trash bag and line the bottom of the holey pot with it so the water doesn't pour onto the floor. Otherwise make the mecca north and go to Garden Ridge or Hobby Lobby. Being a decor store in conjunction with the other stuff they sell, they just might have what you want.

The employees are actually trained to WALK the customer TO the product they're looking for, not give directions through the woods to grandmother's house. Ms. Toilet Seat director and Mr. Happy Tape Measure, were either spankin new or actually took the job seriously.
And please oh please tell me what the cashier looked like. I'm going to ask the husband who it was so he can harass her about it at work.

Persnickety Ticker said...

I honestly was afraid to make eye contact with the poop party cashier. The fear has overridden any memory of what she actually looked like.

tysgirl said...

I wish someone would bring me a cake and presents when I poop.

What? Surely you haven't forgotten the constipation that comes with pregnancy.

Meuse said...

if people threw a party just cause i pooped... leeme tell ya the sphincter would never open again, just pucker for the rest of my traumatised life! i can't even pee if the cat walks by the bathroom, let alone parties in it!!!!
however, as for the rest of your experience... ahhhhh the memories. i need a job.

Emotional Mullet said...

Ha! I would love a poopy party! Cake! Candles! What concerns me tho, is naming the darn thing only to flush it away...how sad...

(found you via tysgirl...)