“More saving. More doing. That’s the power of the Home Depot.” You disgusting sheep. You cannot possibly begin to imagine the Home Depot’s true power. You swarm in when the doors open, and you swarm out when the doors close, and you buy whatever the men in the orange aprons tell you to buy, and you stand in line, and you drive away with your twine and your pressed boards and your Miracle-Gro, which performs no miracles at all, and you think you know what our power is.
We laugh at you, when you leave. We close the doors and we turn off the lights and we laugh and laugh and laugh.
Did you ever even stop to wonder why we sell all of those tiki torches? Did you take a single moment to ask a coherent question about why a company whose ostensible purpose is to provide DIY enthusiasts with basic home improvement supplies sells tiki torches? Of course you did not. Besting you has been shamefully easy. We take no pride in it. It was like overwhelming a sleeping child.
This is an awfully wide aisle you’re walking down, isn’t it? Funny. Was it always this empty?
The front doors are closed. They don’t open manually, either. It’s dark outside, and the parking lot looks empty. Was it dark outside when you came in here? When did you come in here? Were you alone? You’re alone now, so you must have come in alone.
Try turning the corner. Kitchen appliances. Weren’t you here before? Weren’t the kitchen appliances in aisle seven a few minutes ago? It’s difficult to remember, isn’t it?
It’s difficult to listen for human voices over the sound of the power saw. There could be a hundred different conversations going on, just a few feet away. Or there could be none. You could be alone, or you could be surrounded, and you would never know the difference. That’s part of the power of the Home Depot. It is barely the beginning, but it is part of the Home Depot nonetheless. Learning that you cannot fully realize the power of the Home Depot is the beginning of understanding.
You will see a washing machine in thirteen seconds. Don’t bother looking for it, or turning around. Seeing it will not be optional. There is nothing you have to do but wait. (That’s the power of the Home Depot.) It’s a bit large for a washing machine, isn’t it? Has it always been that size, or is it changing? How large are washing machines, normally? Go ahead. Try to remember.
While you’re waiting, why don’t you go ahead and open the door? It’s a front-loading machine. Is that power saw getting louder, or is it getting further away? It can’t be doing both. Can it?
It’s awfully dark in there. Dark, but not empty. What do you think is inside? You have so much still to learn about the power of the Home Depot. Why not take a look? Saw’s getting awfully loud now. Better step inside.
[Image via Wikimedia Commons]
Tags: home depot, power, real power
Mallory, I hope you are planning to preserve your brain for science, because it’s amazing.
Oh God, this is actually what it’s like at the Home Depot. Time becomes strangely fluid and the painting supplies aisle never seems to be in exactly the same place. Why DO they sell tiki torches????
I served my time working under the orange apron years ago in a snooty Chicago neighborhood, and this is frighteningly accurate…except for when I was watering flowers on the rooftop, frolicking in the summer sunlight with the best skyline ever on display to the near south–and hungover joking with friends/coworkers while “guarding” grills we just assembled on the busy sidewalk. I actually want to write our HR dude and thank him for hiring people who ended up being lifelong friends, and I sometimes pine for the days of having little to no responsibility. Not defending that evil store, with demons for upper management and foreboding hallucinations in every nook and cranny, but I managed to make the best of it while somehow wrangling tuition reimbursement…until getting fired for “time theft”. I am a time thief. I have stolen time from a huge retailer and now I have to live with that.
My boyfriend worked at Home Depot for about two years and this also sounds about right according to his experience.
Thief of Time! This is delightful. Well-played.
I have a friend who works at Home Depot and once someone came in and told him, “I’m here to buy some shit,” and he said, “I’m sorry, we don’t sell that here.”
*mic drop*
Beg to differ.
Actually, isn’t that stuff made of cow pee?
When you open the door to the washing machine all laundry will be replaced by a vista of swirling clouds and a red-eyed dog will growl “ZUUL.”
Funny. You don’t usually see that kind of activity in a major appliance.
Behold the aisle of model front doors. Wouldn’t that Craftsman mahogany door with the oval decorative window look wonderful on your house? Try the knob. Walk through the model door. Consider whether you’ve walked into another dimension.
Also: sand. $3 bags of sand. That’s what tipped me off, really, was the pallet rack stacked high with $3 bags of sand.
The ambient lighting also induces a highly suggestible, trance-like state. Last time I walked into a Home Depot, I walked out with a kit for applying a new coat of porcelain to my perfectly functional bathtub and the delusion that I could accomplish this project without clogging pipes with half-set porcelain goo!
Funny. You don't usually see that kind of activity in a major appliance.
I don’t quite get this. The writing was funny, but was this supposed to be a slam against Home Depot or their customers? If it’s slamming the company, it doesn’t make sense to me as the company (any company) just adapts to what its customers demand. They sell Tiki torches because people will buy them.
But if this post is meant to belittle people who shop at Home Depot, I guess I still don’t understand. It was an interesting read, perhaps just above my head.
I have an intense desire to buy a 3-pack of brightly-colored Husky razor blade knives (refill blades included!) which I will never really use and promptly lose right. now.
Cue the Snap Attack:
dunt! (chick, chick, chick) dut-dut-dunt! (chick, chick) “I’VE GOT THE POW-UH!!!”
It’s gettin’ kinda hectic.