In the wake of another successful Thanksgiving—and by successful, I mean I ate until I was ready to keel over—Grace and I have spent much of Black Friday lounging around the house.
We were in our pajamas until roughly one in the afternoon, we’ve plowed through leftovers—sorry folks, the cherry pie is long gone—and we’ve essentially been as worthless as the folks who make the canned cranberry sauce goo will be for the rest of the year.
Then, in a random burst of post-gorging food-high, Grace decided today would be a great day to clean and finish up some other chores around the house.
She went about sweeping and mopping like a mad woman.
I changed the disgusting old shower curtain liner for a new one, and destroyed three of the plastic hanger-thingy-majiggys in the process and I prepared to hang up the curtain rod and curtains we purchased during our IKEA trip a few weeks back.
I promptly discovered we were without drywall screws.
In fact, I only had four screws total. Two meant for keeping parts of a metal reading desk together and two completely unmatched gigantic screws meant for keeping parts of a ship’s hull together.
Needless to say these would not suffice.
So I chugged a Full Throttle and threw on my coat, knowing full-well that an onslaught of psychosis awaited me at the hardware store, but I braved on.
Once inside the hardware store, I kept mumbling to myself “Drywall Screws. Drywall Screws. All You Need is Drywall Screws!!”
The drywall screws are, of course, located in the very back of the hardware store. As such, I wandered past dozens of items that practically leaped of the shelves and into my awaiting, consumeristic arms.
First it was a new set of plastic hanger-thingy-majiggys for the shower curtain.
“You just broke a bunch of these. This is totally necessary. Just these hangers and drywall screws, that’s it.”
So I picked up the plastic hanger-thingy-majiggys and carried on in my quest to find drywall screws. Although I then noticed out of the corner of my eye that they had a drill on sale for an astounding bargain price of $9.99.
“Well, if I’m going to be hanging curtain rods, a drill would be a lot more useful than trying to use a screwdriver. Plus I’ve wanted a drill for a while now and come on, it’s ten freakin’ dollars!! They’re practically giving it away.”
As one would expect, I picked up the drill and began on my way before a quick realization struck me and I was forced to do a little bit of inner argument action.
Rational Graves: “Wait…wait…wait…”
Consumerism Graves: “Oh no, here comes Buzz Killington. What the f*ck do you want?!”
Rational Graves: “Dude, you don’t need a drill.”
Consumerism Graves: “Are you kidding me?! A drill is like the perfect invention. It’s a screwdriver that does all the work for you. What kind of idiot wouldn’t want in on that action?!”
Rational Graves: “Yeah, that’s all great and fine, but the drill cost $10. Ten freakin’ dollars.”
Consumerism Graves: “I KNOW!! They’re practically giving it away!!”
Rational Graves: “Exactly!! What kind of shitty-ass drill are you going to be buying for $10?!”
Consumerism Graves: “Oh, well you pose a really good point. In fact I think that I’ll go ahe—BAM”
That was the point where Consumerism Graves cracked Rational Graves in the face with the drill, knocking him out cold.
By the time I’d fully come to and realized what had happened, I was back home showing off all of the random crap I’d purchased at the overpriced hardware store.
My trek to acquire six—count ‘em six—drywall screws ended with bringing home shower curtain hanger-thingy-majiggys, a new drill, a tarp, some zip-ties, and a box of two-dozen drywall screws.
The only reason it wasn’t more was because I’d wisely left my credit cards at home and just brought what little cash I had on hand.
I vaguely recall staring intently at a four foot Christmas tree “the perfect-size for our apartment!”, a sticky bathmat “this way Grace won’t over slip and crack her head open in the shower!”, a peg-board coat hanger “I’d TOTALLY start hanging my coat up if we had this!”, and a big string of Christmas lights “teehee lights teehee shiny teehee!!”.
Luckily it seems my pre-ordained game plan to travel with limited monetary funds was a lifesaver!!
Yet, as I sit here staring out the window, I can’t help but think that our place would look awesome with a four foot Christmas tree, a new sticky bathmat, pegboard coat hanger, and some new super shiny lights!!
Black Friday sucks.