Yesterday evening I found myself in the hardware department of Sears. I was lured there by my wife who’d earlier in the day asked if I wanted to go to the mall and I made the crucial mistake of assuming that going to the mall meant shopping in stores much more exciting than Sears. When we arrived at the Wolfchase Galleria and the excitement faded from my eyes as we approached Sears, my wife made a suggestion that we get something to eat at the food court, to keep my occupied while she shopped for tools and salvage my trip to the mall. We got Chick-fil-a which is always a good choice, but I quickly realized once we were handed the bag of food that I wouldn’t be able to eat this walking through the store, because like any good american I needed to be able to dunk my fries in ketchup, which would be virtually impossible if not sitting down. We sat in the food court and ate the sandwich and fries, which were pretty tasteless by the way, no matter how much ketchup I put on them.
Once we got to Sears and made it over to the hardware section, the boredom kicked in almost instantly. In this way, I suppose I’m not your typical man, because I don’t have any interest in tools whatsoever. In this marriage it is my wife who is tool crazy and likes to do the typical manly things around the house, which is why we were shopping yesterday because she is going to change the rear brake pads on my car. Boring I know. I almost fell asleep typing that sentence, but it’s something that has to be done in order for my brakes to continue operating functionally so one day I don’t find myself speeding down the road unable to stop. Apparently that’s a bad thing but it’s not something I’ve actually experienced, and standing in the aisle full of sockets and wrenches I thought it might actually be preferable to being in the store at that moment.
I’m not exaggerating when I say that we were on the same aisle for at least twenty minutes. We were there so long that I began looking around me for something that I could use to hurt myself and be taken to the hospital. At that point I would have done anything to get out of that excruciatingly boring situation. I could use the box cutter to make a deep cut worthy of a 911 call, but it was in a plastic container that looked nearly impossible to open, so I settled on the foot long metallic ratcheting wrench. Before I could make my move, Leticia was ready to check out, so luckily I was able to leave without paying hundreds of dollars in medical bills. When we left the mall it was dark out, but I was feeling light and happy inside, proud of myself for surviving that excruciating ordeal. Hopefully I won’t have to go back to Sears for a very long time.