Saturday morning I needed to pick up some MDF and hardboard. I have no truck nor trailer nor available friends with such equipment, nor will an 8x4 fit into my little Honda. I decided to wing it. I went in, paid for my products, and decided to roll the dice with having the Home Depot monkeys cut it to size for me, thinking it'd then fit in my Accord. I approached the only guy I could find in the lumber area. He looked like he was about 23 and had probably been sneering since he was about 14. I said, "Hello!" and he just stared at me, as if I may as well have said, "Eat ferret dung!" I said, "I've got some 8x4's here that won't fit into my car. Think I could talk somebody into cutting them to size for me?"
The guy continued to look at me. I thought maybe he didn't speak English. He then spoke - and this is amazing - without ever really opening his mouth. He said something like, "Mayzel jizgitur truck." I caught one word there that I was positive was English: truck. So, I said, "Oh, is there a truck I can rent?" He rolled his eyes and shot me this impatient glare, like he was trying to explain calculus to a 4 year-old. He said, "Ya-er-izifu gowda Special Services." Ah HA! "And where is the Special Services counter?" I asked, trying to maintain good cheer in the face of having a semi-literate orange-vest hardware jockey talking down to me. The guy pointed and issued a simean grunt. I politely thanked him and started heading towards "Special Services." I'm not a class warrior or anything, and I have much respect for people who are willing to work a job at Home Depot on the weekends, but I've worked my share of service-sector jobs and even in the height of my adolescent rebellion, I managed to usually treat people with a modicum of dignity and courtesy. Maybe I was raised wrong.
Anyway, beyond having to wait 15 minutes for the truck to be returned by the last guy (not a big deal) and having another Home Depot employee try to steathily take it from me, the rest went smoothly.
So you guys aren't kidding! Some of the marginal life forms meandering the aisles of Home Depot make the skin crawl. The people are Lowe's are never like that to me. At worst, they pretend to know things they don't and cheerfully offer helpful "advice" that's so obviously wrong that even I know enough to nod politely and ignore it.