Ace Hardware Terror

A few weeks ago I went to Ace Hardware to buy some screws. We needed them to hang up pictures, no biggie. So, I drove into Rexburg, ran some errands, and stopped off at Ace Hardware on my way home. As I walked in the store, a nice, cute helpful assistant asked me "May I help you?"

"Yes, I need some screws to hang up some artwork"

"Aisle 13"

"Thanks!"

I sauntered down the main aisle, feeling pretty good. It's been a good day, and I get to go home after this. I'll even have time to read a little before I start dinner... hmm should we have spaghetti and meatballs, or something with chicken? hmm.... oh, there's aisle 13.

Looking back, I should have realized what was coming... Aisle THIRTEEN? How could I not see that?

I turned into the aisle and was struck with cold terror. Boxes and BOXES OF SCREWS AND NAILS. TOWERING OVER ME. "Composite Wood Deck"? "Fillister Head"? "SELF DRILLING SCREWS"? Has the world gone MAD? I began to walk up and down the aisle, which I will hence forth call the "lane of despair". Of course I immediately realized that there was no way I could make this decision by myself. I peeked around the corner and asked an associate for help. "I'll be there in a moment ma'am" (Side note: When did I become a MA'AM? At 20, you'd think I'm still a miss). I hovered on the edge of the Lane of Despair, waiting for help to arrive. A few minutes later the associate arrives on the scene, and I tell him I need some help finding the right kind of screw to hang pictures. What does this kind, helpful man say? "It's the ones at the other end". And then walks away.

A little too stunned to really take in that kind of response, I watch his retreating form turn into a speck. My brain goes into panic mode, and retreats to subjects I can handle... "What colors should I paint the spare room? I wonder if Ian would like a stuffed Lion for Christmas?... NO! I have to bring myself back!" I begin to plan out spending the night in the store so I'll have enough time to figure things out... but then! I remembered that I have a CELLULAR PHONE. I whipped it out and speed dialed my husband... no answer. My Mother! She knows everything! It rings once, twice... she answers! "Hello!" Oh my wonderful mother. She will know what screws to buy. After a lenthy covnersation, I decide to get drywall screws... I'm still not sure what size, or what it all really means, but it's okay, I'm getting there. I grab the boxes and run for the checkout. The nice, cute helpful clerk is still there.

"Did you find everything you need?"

"Almost. Do you know of a nearby Psychotherapist?"