Paint Complaint

 The Thrifty Rocketeer blog continues...

So just the other day, I was standing in line at Lowe's trying to check out with a quart of paint.  I had been quite careful to select the proper paint, weather resistant, mildew resistant, exterior with a little semi-gloss it the finish.



I was a little annoyed that only one check out lane was open, and none of the four self-check outs were up and working.

As I pivoted, looking around, bored, I spotted the man behind me, a scruffy looking character who said, "Oh, hi there."  So I found myself drawn into a conversation with him.  He was also holding a pint of paint, but it was different from mine.

So I  quipped, " looks like you're painting too."

"No, he starts in, "I'm rebuilding a 1953 furnace and trying to coat the connections."



At least, that's why I THOUGHT he had said, I glanced again at his quart in his hand, and recognized that it was "Flex-Seal".   You know, the kind that always has the demonstrations of how waterproof it is and how it can be used in a hundred applications.  You're always running into it on TV, especially on cable channels... with extended commercial slots. 

"Yeah, I tried the blue it earlier and have had to tear it down and rebuild it about four times now," he complains.  "So I figured I'd get the good stuff."  (At least I think that's what he said. Maybe it was 'GLUE IT' and I just missed the reference.)

"Can you believe it, it's thirty dollars a can!   THIRTY DOLLARS!   It must be that they have to pay for all of that TV advertising they're always running."

Now I am a bit uncomfortable, because the guy seems to recognize me, though I don't know him from Adam... and I have no idea what he's talking about.  I think he's trying to seal some union joint or two, but I really don't know if it's appropriate or not.  Plus, I think he's making a shot at TV advertising, something that he assumes that I know about.

So I turn to him and laughingly agree, "Yeah, it's expensive stuff...."

"Well I wouldn't buy it if I didn't have to," he says belligerently. Now it sounds like he's filing a complaint.

Now, I'm really annoyed, and starting to feel threatened, like he thinks it's my fault that he has to buy this can of overpriced stuff.  Thank goodness the line starts to move, and it's my turn at the clerks register.

"How come you don't have the self-check outs open,"  I ask?

"I don't know," she replies, "but we could have used them earlier. We just didn't have the staffing to open up any more lines earlier."

I'm thinking to myself, why is this my problem, as I pay for the quart of paint.  

"Do you want it in a bag," she asks?

Naw, I just want to carry it out of there and get on with my task.

The guy behind me says something as I scoop up my can and walk away.   I'm thinking quickly, why is he complaining to me?  And I remember that I'm wearing a dress shirt and tie.

Then it hits me. He thinks that I'm store management or something.  Only because I'm dressed up. It's happened to me before, like when I'm at Kroger and someone asks where the meat tenderizer is.  I have no idea, but they seem to think that I should.

I sigh as I slip behind the wheel of my car and prepare to leave.   That's when I hear the rumble of approaching thunder.   

No painting today.


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