Happiness at the Home Depot
Recent events have made me feel down, prompting even the husband to ask if I’ve been taking my “crazy pills.” It’s always difficult to find that which you’ve invested so much passion and dedication to has been all but an illusion and it’s also difficult to realize those who you called friends are anything but. My graduate seminar this quarter has also been a real cause for stress, compounded by the fact that arrival of spring and overflowing gardens and nurseries and flowers! have all but destroyed any sense of focus I once had.
But there are those serendipitous things that find me nonetheless to remind me the entire universe is not aligned against me. First, there are posts like this one at the blog Pregnant Drug-Dealing Prostitutes - which totally wins the unique blog name award - that both made me giggle and reassures me the entire world hasn’t gone fatphobic, too. And nothing beats finding a folded up $100 dollar bill in your bed of irises (See honey? Gardening does pay off).
But perhaps the most cheery highlight came last night… Our only bathroom is in a chaotic state of remodel right now, prompting a Home Depot run last night for molding and paint. While waiting at the paint counter, I saw two men approach the department, deep in conversation. The shorter man was chubbier, and with his blonde hair, ruddy cheeks and bright blue eyes, he could have been the love child of Julie Andrews and comedian Jim Gaffigan. The taller, dark haired man seemed familiar and I placed him as the nice cashier I had around Easter time at the Dollar Store. When I married Brandon, I instantly became the cool aunt to three nephews and a niece. One of the official duties of the cool aunt is to shower them endlessly with sugar-laden gifts and the grossest, most absolutely revolting toys I can find for the boys. Fortunately, my niece despises those sticky balls you squeeze to see bugs, eyeballs and other disgusting internal organs squirt out. It was close to closing time at the store when I checked out, I remember, and the man must have been tired but he was extremely friendly. We talked about our nephews and nieces and somehow got on the subject of gardening. He told me how his partner had an obsession with garden gnomes and that they had 20 - 30 of them around their house and garden.
When I got home that night, I remember telling Brandon about the affable man at the store and his boyfriend’s garden gnome obsession. What struck me most is that the man felt no qualms in telling me about his “partner” - he didn’t worry that I would recoil in disgust nor did he seem to fear repercussion for his job should the customer be homophobic. In lieu of wedding gifts, Brandon and I asked folks to donate to Freedom to Marry, which advocates for gay marriage; it’s a cause we are both in support of, especially now that we ourselves enjoy the many economic and legal benefits of wedded bliss. I am a magnet for weird folk; really, I could dedicate a whole blog to the odd and eclectic people who manage to find me. So, maybe my general aura is one that exudes sheer hippieness and this man sensed I wouldn’t be revolted by the thought of him with another man. But still, the fact that he felt completely open to relate stories of me and my husband with that of him and his boyfriend reassures me our entire culture hasn’t been hijacked by the religious right.
The man’s boyfriend seemed to be in distress, wandering about the paint section aimlessly, throwing his hands up in agitated despair. He looked at several booklets and compared paint chips and samples. Finally he approached me, pointing to a sage green color in a book and asked, “Ma’am, could you tell me if this is a weird color for the outside of a house?”
“Why, no,” I replied. “I think that’s a great color and…. I think it would probably go really well with garden gnomes.”
The man’s blue eyes instantly lit up. His face erupted into what I can only call a state of orgasmic bliss. “Really!” he exclaimed. ” I LOVE garden gnomes!” It was like Moses accepting himself as a Hebrew - “I will dwell in this land…”
His innocent exuberance was near painful so I gave up my game and explained to him the previous encounter I had with his boyfriend, who was standing behind him red-faced and doubled over in laughter. My husband walked up about this time and we relayed the whole exchange to him, prompting another round of laughter. Later, we passed them as we headed for the checkout counter and I heard the taller man laughingly telling the whole story again to someone on his cell phone. I’m sure it’s one story they’ll be telling for weeks to come.
There are some who are saying the blogosphere is in a state of depression, that it’s losing its vibrancy and that we’re devolving into divisional in-fighting and despondency. Maybe. But I also think we need to experience the low times with the good, so that we appreciate the good for the rare and delicious supernovas they are. Hang in there everybody.
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