Boring stuff last night. I painted a bunch of ceilings (which is terrible work) and Amanda painted cabinets. Ho hum.
I did, however, remember a story I should have told awhile ago. I'm sure I was a little preoccupied with Ron Costa, but today, the story gets the full blowout treatment.
I've written about the Wagner Paint Eater a few different times so far and how awesome it is. Sadly, the purchase experience was anything but awesome. Horrifying is more apt.
I headed to the Home Depot near work with the intent of purchasing the Paint Eater. I wandered around a little bit in an out of aisles, and finally meandered over to the paint department's little customer service desk. A small man with the Home Depot apron on had his back to me, so I waited for him to turn around. Finally noticing me, he turned, and as he did, I noticed his ear. Uh-oh.
Now, if you don't know me, here's a little more about me: I have trouble masking my initial reaction when I see something, good or bad. For instance, if I see an old woman fall down, I immediately laugh at her. When I see a super fat and/or ugly woman, I make a face like I smelled something foul. Etc. The point is, I rarely, if ever, have the facial reaction filter that most other people employ. I don't know when it started, or why, but it's probably too late to change now. What does this have to do with buying a glorified sander from the local Home Depot? Lots.
When I noticed this small man's ear, it was basically missing. There was a little bit of tissue left, so it wasn't completely gone, but it was definitely weird looking. Seeing as I don't have any sort of facial expression censor, and I was looking at something that was fairly grotesque/surprising, my eyes widened. Big mistake. When the man finished turning around, my eyes were wide open, and probably stretching even wider, because he was a super mega extra uber burn victim. Like, extra burn.
My words may not adequately describe him, but I'll do my best. Imagine a sheepish, mousy thirteen year old boy, skinny, and unsure of himself. Now take that thirteen year old's nose and shear it off so there's only about a quarter of an inch of tissue left protruding from his face. When you're done with that, take about three square inches or less of pale skin and stretch it over the entirety of his face, back to his ears. Cut a few holes through the taught skin for eyes, a mouth and nostrils and you'll be approaching the general look of this man's face. It was just terrifying.
Noticing the look of this small man, I realized that my eyes were wide open. He didn't see me widen them initially, as he was mid-turn, so I said to myself, "Great. My eyes are wide open and I now can't close them, because he'll obviously know that I widened them because of how terrible and scary he looks. I guess I just have to carry out the rest of this transaction with wide open eyes. Awesome."
I asked him about the Paint Eater and he led me down the aisle to where they are stacked up. Still wide eyed, I watched him point.
Oh no. He was missing his hands. Holy crap.
He had a nub where the base of his fingers used to be, and a little thumb nub, maybe up to the knuckle. Seeing this, I was glad that my eyes were already wide open, because boy would they have widened in plain sight if they weren't.
Seeing the condition of where his hand used to be, I started to thank him and reach for the box, which had a convenient handle on the top of it. I stopped short, because, ahem, HE STUFFED HIS NUB IN BETWEEN THE BOX AND THE HANDLE.
Sorry for yelling. He actually jammed his former hand/current stump into the handle to give me the product. I was mortified. He handed (dangled?) me the box, which was hanging from his rounded off scar tissue. I thanked him for his help, scurried to the registers, and finally returned my eyes to their normal width.
Please. Home Depot of South Attleboro. Do not. Put a man. With a surgically manufactured pale stretchy mask face. And scar tissue arm caps. Anywhere. Where he has to help me. Please.
I know I should probably be more sensitive to his plight, but just like pudgy ugly women/men aren't cut out for modeling (you hear that Dove brand?), this man should not be the face of the Home Depot Paint Department. Yikes.