Walmart, I don’t like you, but I can’t help but sometimes seeing if you’ve bothered to change.
I’m going to admit something to you–readers, not Walmart–so unfeminist that I have to ask that all feminists advert their eyes and pretend they never read this.
Here is the one reason I’m occasionally sad that I don’t have a husband–I would, if I could, be married to a man who liked and had an aptitude for fixing things. When I came home from Atlanta and said, “I broke my suitcase,” my husband would have pulled out a mallet, an Exacto knife, a pair of pliers, and a manly sewing kid and spent a good hour fixing it right up. He would have even WD40ed the zipper for me.
“All set there, B.” he would have said, in his charming way, as he grinned and I cheered. Then he would have balanced my checkbook, just for the challenge. Ah, imaginary husband, you are so sweet and good at all the things I suck at. And you like my dog. And you are kind and smart. How could I not love you?
Alas, I have no husband and no real aptitude for fixing things. So, my suitcase is broken and all my attempts to fix it just broke it worse.
So, I went to Walmart to buy some luggage. For $90 I could have gotten this awesome five piece American Tourister set that was like those Russian dolls. You’d open one suitcase and there was another smaller one inside it. It seemed like a really good deal, but alas, I only had $100 and needed contact stuff and a tiny tube of toothpaste.
So, instead, I got a cheap suitcase and a cheap bag and I figure if they fall apart, well, at least I got to San Juan and back in one piece. Knock on wood.
Yes, folks, I’m leaving you again. I go on Tuesday and get back on Sunday. I’m really looking forward to it. The folks I’m going to see are always a good and lively bunch. I’ve never been to the Caribbean, so I’m excited about that. And, since I love these folks and I’m totally intrigued by the place, even though I’m going for work, I’ve got none of my work-travel anxiety.
Still, if you see me on the plane, I’ll be the girl muttering “Safe I go and safe return and safe on my journey be.”
I’ve got to tell you, you don’t need a husband/man around the house to fix things. They’re not going to do it, or they’re only going to break more while fixing what’s broke. What you really need is a hot, gay handyman. You will have to pay him, but sooner or later you always have to pay to get something fixed right.
He needs to be hot, because, well just because and he needs to be gay so that you can’t give in and ruin the fixit relationship by sleeping with him (good handyman help is hard to find). Things will get fixed promptly and by appointment and fixed right the first time. Always consider your options.
A hot gay handyman?! That is awesome.
Oh, Fritz! Do you do windows?