Volpone
Zombie Hunter
If you guys were paying me, this would be at least 2 tightly written, zippy columns. But since you're not, this is going to be a rambling, train of consciousness trainwreck.
I'm making a bedroom. But I didn't have as many 1 5/8" drywall screws as I thought I did. And I accidentally bought 2 1/2" screws instead of 2" screws last time I was at the hardware store. Amazingly, I was able to make the 2 1/2" screws work for most of the work, but for some of it they were just a touch too long. But there's a Wal*Mart about 3 blocks from me and Wal*Mart always has everything, so certainly, they would have 1 5/8" drywall screws. I resolved to buy the biggest box they had.
Unfortunately I've been thinking about my dog of late, and walking makes me think of her even more. I was thinking about the absolute joy she would have EVERY SINGLE TIME she realized she was about to go for a walk with me, and tearing up. Then, because it's early July and I live in the redneck part of town, a bomb went off. And I thought about how nervous it would've made her, but I'd have been able to calm her down. Then another. And another. And I realized at that point, as I was entering the Wal*Mart parking lot, I'd have had to turn around and take her home, because even if I could've got her to go one, she'd have been miserable tied up by the door. So I didn't feel quite so sad.
And it turns out Wal*Mart does NOT have 1 5/8" drywall screws. They have tiny expensive boxes of 1 1/4" and 2 1/2". After pondering this a bit, I got a box of the 1 1/4. Drywall is 3/8" thick, so that leaves 1 1/8" of screw to sink into the stud. Then it was time to check out. You'd think after 10pm, Wal*Mart would be less depressing, but it was still "The Raft of the Medusa"; 3rd class steerage passengers trying to get off the Titanic were less miserable than the people in line at Wal*Mart. The contingency plan was to just abandon my purchase, cut my losses, and go home, but then I saw it: The self check island. A sea of red lights. And one kiosk, flashing green with "OPEN" on the screen. There was no attendant there so it was clearly an oversight, but "fortune favors the bold" as a mentor once said. Or "rules are for little people," as a friend put it. I walked past the incompletely positioned tape barrier to the terminal.
I mentally considered things that would trigger an "ATTENDANT NEEDED" message and queer my plan. No booze. No spray paint. No age overrides needed. I was good to go. At first I failed (I should mention I had a few cocktails before beginning this adventure), but I focused. And I realized that it was on some kind of penultimate closeout screen. If you pushed any 5 of 6 buttons, the terminal would've shut down for the night. But if you pushed one, it would resume operation. I pushed it and the barcode scanner flashed back online.
Smugly zapped out my order made an extra point to be sure to have the receipt, and bopped off toward the exit. I felt compelled to joke with the security guard and the Wal*Mart Welcomer when I had to bop all the way back to my starting point because there was a trash can in front of the exit doors I'd planned to use. I guess I could've moved the can and tried to use the door anyway, but fortune only favors the bold so far and one shouldn't push one's luck more than necessary.
I'm making a bedroom. But I didn't have as many 1 5/8" drywall screws as I thought I did. And I accidentally bought 2 1/2" screws instead of 2" screws last time I was at the hardware store. Amazingly, I was able to make the 2 1/2" screws work for most of the work, but for some of it they were just a touch too long. But there's a Wal*Mart about 3 blocks from me and Wal*Mart always has everything, so certainly, they would have 1 5/8" drywall screws. I resolved to buy the biggest box they had.
Unfortunately I've been thinking about my dog of late, and walking makes me think of her even more. I was thinking about the absolute joy she would have EVERY SINGLE TIME she realized she was about to go for a walk with me, and tearing up. Then, because it's early July and I live in the redneck part of town, a bomb went off. And I thought about how nervous it would've made her, but I'd have been able to calm her down. Then another. And another. And I realized at that point, as I was entering the Wal*Mart parking lot, I'd have had to turn around and take her home, because even if I could've got her to go one, she'd have been miserable tied up by the door. So I didn't feel quite so sad.
And it turns out Wal*Mart does NOT have 1 5/8" drywall screws. They have tiny expensive boxes of 1 1/4" and 2 1/2". After pondering this a bit, I got a box of the 1 1/4. Drywall is 3/8" thick, so that leaves 1 1/8" of screw to sink into the stud. Then it was time to check out. You'd think after 10pm, Wal*Mart would be less depressing, but it was still "The Raft of the Medusa"; 3rd class steerage passengers trying to get off the Titanic were less miserable than the people in line at Wal*Mart. The contingency plan was to just abandon my purchase, cut my losses, and go home, but then I saw it: The self check island. A sea of red lights. And one kiosk, flashing green with "OPEN" on the screen. There was no attendant there so it was clearly an oversight, but "fortune favors the bold" as a mentor once said. Or "rules are for little people," as a friend put it. I walked past the incompletely positioned tape barrier to the terminal.
I mentally considered things that would trigger an "ATTENDANT NEEDED" message and queer my plan. No booze. No spray paint. No age overrides needed. I was good to go. At first I failed (I should mention I had a few cocktails before beginning this adventure), but I focused. And I realized that it was on some kind of penultimate closeout screen. If you pushed any 5 of 6 buttons, the terminal would've shut down for the night. But if you pushed one, it would resume operation. I pushed it and the barcode scanner flashed back online.
Smugly zapped out my order made an extra point to be sure to have the receipt, and bopped off toward the exit. I felt compelled to joke with the security guard and the Wal*Mart Welcomer when I had to bop all the way back to my starting point because there was a trash can in front of the exit doors I'd planned to use. I guess I could've moved the can and tried to use the door anyway, but fortune only favors the bold so far and one shouldn't push one's luck more than necessary.