Unfortunately, I will be leaving for the gym in about 30 minutes. It’s unfortunate because it is raining outside, it’s very dark in my apartment, and because its only 9 AM I could fit about three movies and two football games in if I don’t get up from my couch. There are 9 Coors light in my fridge. This could be a great day.
But, obviously I wouldn’t be writing about this if I was about to have a great day. Today, I have to go to the gym because I’m a fat slob. I have to go food shopping so I can cook meals for the week, so I don’t have to eat Subway all week at work. Then of course, I have to go to the mecca. The Depot. Home Depot. I obviously have to go back to Home Depot, this time for shelves, different size screws and a fucking Christmas tree.
My wife wanted a white Christmas tree, which I vetoed. Of course, she can buy whatever she wants, but a white Christmas tree that she may or may not like next year is not on my list of things to buy this year. We can buy a green tree and then throw some white shit on it maybe. Or she can go Home Depot and buy the tree too. I swear I’m a good husband so far, but I have to draw the line somewhere.
I’m all for impulsive money spending. Yesterday at the fall festival we spent $250 on a piece of wood with some beers on. Albeit, it’s fucking cool as hell, but I immediately had buyers remorse. So, I did what I always do when I have buyers remorse; I bought another beer and brought my buzz closer to tipsy.
Before we spent the $250, we bought a $20 beer bottle opener. One of the ones that sit on the wall and catch all of the caps. It was pretty cool and I knew I was buying it as soon as I saw it. But the man who was selling it was one of the saddest men on the face of the planet. We were just trying to chat with him, ask him if he makes everything himself, and how he does it or whatever. He starts going into a whole sob story about how no one ever buys his stuff.
I felt like he was the kid on the playground crying that no one wanted to play with him. Not like a kid who was sad that the other kids wouldn’t play tag with him or something though. Sort of like the kid who was eating sand in the sand box and no one else wanted to eat sand with him. Obviously, this was a grown man that and he was sad in a more condescending way, like he couldn’t possibly understand why someone wouldn’t want to buy his wood carving stuff, with his name burned into them, which is honestly the only reason I didn’t want to buy the thing. Why would I want your name on something in my home. It’s not like his name is that big on it but he could’ve at least put his name on the back of the thing so that I don’t have to see it every time I walk by it. Now, every time I walk by the thing, I’m going to think of that sad, old, dickhead. And that’s what he wanted, isn’t it. Good for him.