I have to admit I was excited for my New Year’s Eve
Had to work a normal day…so much for holiday spirit
I then had a list of items that needed to be purchased…..toilet paper was becoming a premium item in the house and boxes of kleenex were being readily utilized in two of the four bathrooms
So off to Wal-Mart I trekked
Bread, Oreos, frozen pizza and yes, the toilet paper were now all in cart
I was making great time despite the heavy bustle of last-minute party supply shoppers
My son called to remind me I had promised to order pizza, and yes, that was also on the list…just a bit further down from the much-needed toilet paper
I perused the list of items needed one final time
Razors, lint rollers, hairspray and gallon of paint
I proceeded to fly down the aisles plucking up these last few items with one hand while ever so carefully keeping the other and my hip on the cart which pulled strongly to the left. It was simply no match for my superior shopping skills.
A gallon of paint
Better order the pizza after I get this, no telling how long those check out lines will be
I walk up and down the closest 5 aisles on both sides of the paint counter looking for someone wearing a blue shirt with a name badge
I look again, deciding I may just need to go 7-8 aisles deep to find the ever elusive blue shirts.
One does not go to Wal-Mart for exceptional customer service of that I have always been certain
Success. I find a woman in the clearance aisle and ask her how one gets a gallon of paint mixed
She eyes me irritably but places the call over the ever impressive walkie-talkie system I have never cared for much less understood.
I proceed to the counter to await my next blue shirt encounter
And all at once I see him round the corner
“You need paint?” he asks as if there is another reason one would wait with a paint chip in their hand at this particular location
I confirm his suspicions and show him my color choice
He takes it in his hand as his nose wrinkles up in disgust
Thus begins our relationship
He attempts to match the brand and color
He informs me if I have other shopping I am welcome to come back
But I am a bit clingy in our newfound relationship and refuse to leave his side
He disappears down the paint aisle
I guess he needs space, I know the type
He returns empty-handed asking if I would like Glidden or Color Place, but I’m certain he knew the options before he left me
Glidden is my reply
And again he disappears down the paint aisle
I can see our relationship requires me to be open to large amounts of space requirements
He returns with a gallon of paint
Again with the computer, he uses the walkie-talkie for backup
I can’t help but be drawn to how smoothly he utilizes this advanced technology. It’s a special kind of dreamy of this I’m certain.
A man appears behind me, his wife tells him to wait in line for paint as she finishes her other shopping. He nods and silently takes his place behind me
Another blue shirt has rounded the corner, it is the woman from the clearance aisle. She also knows how to mix paint? Who knew?
He steps back as she goes to work. Puzzled she asks me what I’m attempting. A color match is my simple reply. She looks at the her coworker and asks if anyone ever uses the color match anymore. His reply confirms that neither is versed in this high level technology.
Fifteen additional minutes have now passed by
She leaves stating she has no clue how to assist
He looks at me, our eyes meet and I’m certain we are entering into the next stages of our relationship.
“So, you want this color here, right?” he’s a man of few words, but they speak to me
I’m too stunned to do anything but nod in reply
He disappears again down the paint aisle. I’m starting get nervous about his space issue.
The man behind me sees the opportunity and strikes up a polite conversation
My blue shirt returns, plays with the software for another 10 minutes and disappears again
The man in line again seizes the day, this time becoming a bit more personal.
Man in line:”So, how long you been waiting?”
Me: “about an hour”
Man in line: “What are you trying to do?”
Me:”color match a gallon of paint, I’m redecorating my oldest son’s room in the house he rents. It’s his Christmas present.”
Man in line: “Sounds like a nice present”
Me: “I’m about to give up on the paint, this is going nowhere.”
And just like that my blue shirt man has returned with a gallon of paint in hand
“Is it okay if I use a dark base? We’re out of the light it calls for.”
Me: “You can’t use a dark base to mix a light-colored paint, it won’t produce the right color.”
The blue shirt has been rendered dumbfounded and speechless. After what seems like an eternity he returns to consciousness. “I’m sorry for the wait?”
I turn to the man in line and simply state, “Good luck”
He replies with a heartfelt Happy New Year’s.
You can’t help but bond with someone you’ve wasted that much time with
And thus I leave the store a bit saddened that my long-term relationship with the blue shirt has ended just like so many others, with nothing to show for it.
Happy New Years my fellow Word Press bloggers!
And thank you for our long-term relationship, I look forward to building on it in 2014….