The local Home Depots have been the bain of my existence since moving to Northern Virginia. It’s a store that Grey and I have had to go to out of sheer necessity, but that we liken to a torture chamber. Honestly. When we first moved into our townhouse and were renovating it, I went to Home Depot on a daily or bi-daily basis. But it got to the point that I would rather have hammered razor blades into my cuticles than pass through their giant orange doors one more time.
It’s not that we hate hardware stores or home improvement shopping — or even the chain itself. In fact, the Erie Home Depot is downright enjoyable; the clerks actually seek you out to ask if you need help tracking down that toilet seat or Exacto knife. The San Diego Home Depot is heaven; workers will gladly show you where the picture hooks are hidden and explain the difference between latex and oil paint. Unlike their NoVa counterparts, clerks at other HD stores are friendly and free of leprosy.
However, I must say that now that I know our trips to the local Home Depots where no ones wants to help you and the workers seem to purposely screw with your mind when all you want is some damn wood glue are coming to a close, I can at least appreciate the fact that they offer some really good deals. You pay with your sanity, but hey, a discount’s a discount!