On Sunday, people were feeling ambitious. The strip of crabgrass and cement crumbs that we call a garden was finally tended to, after weeks of neglect. Drainage pipes were purchased and installed. People were acting like real-life homeowners--the kind that start AND complete projects. In that spirit, a rocking chair (someone else's trash, now our treasure) was stripped of its peeling paint, and I was sent to the hardware store for fresh paint.
In the paint department, I found a bazillion varieties of paint and primer, but none called Paint for Your Outdoor Chair. So I went to the counter for help. An employee, without looking up from the can of paint he was wrestling with, said in the most half-assed way possible, "You need something?"
I explained my situation (bare wood chair, outdoor furniture, need paint). He came back with: "You need to prime it." What ensued was a series of failed attempts (mine) to figure out what KIND of primer and paint (latex vs. oil?), received by irritated semi-responses (his). When I asked what the difference is between the two, he hissed, "Do you want me to just PICK one for you?"
"I'm sorry, but I'm just trying to figure out what's best for this project," I said. He spun on his heels, took three steps away from me, and choked, "I cannot wait to get out of here."
"That's right. You are ugly. You are ugly to me."
"Um, exCUSE me?"
At this point I was just talking to his back, which was walking away from me with the rest of his nasty self. I caught up with him, read his nametag, and marched my ugly self over to the nearest manager.
After a little time passed and my blood cooled, I realized Christopher C. was probably just having a no good very bad day, and I was standing between him and closing time. Fine. But what I want to know is this: Why does it always take 10 minutes too long to think of the good comebacks?