Nice Rack

Nothing ruins the mood like being locked out of your own bedroom.

The Boy, A.J., was over the other day. We might have been making out. I might have led him upstairs all sultry like. But one thing is certain: My bedroom door, mysteriously closed, did not yield when I pushed on it. Still trying to remain the sexy hot pants I am, I threw my weight against the door with a subtle, carnal grunt.

It budged enough for me to squeeze in, my face pressed against the door jam, the epitome of sensuality.

The culprit:



My over-the-door shoe rack broke, sending every stiletto, every flip flop, every ballerina flat plummeting to a fortified position strategically in front of the threshold.

The very next day, I went searching high and low for a replacement shoe rack at K-Mart, Big Lots, Sears, J.C. Penney and the Montgomery County Liquor Store, all to no avail. Not a shoe rack to be had.

Then, Home Depot beckoned me. The rustic concrete floors, the orange glow of the signage and the raw hormones from the 19-year-old sales boys always draw me in. I thought surely Home Depot would be my salvation.

In the Home Organization aisle, like a beacon, I saw my name:

Surely! The Wall Cabinet Armoire Murale Gabinete de Pared was what I needed. Why else would my name be mysteriously scotch taped to the shelf?

Wait! Here it is:

It's the Estante De Acero Pra Almacenamiento Con 4 Repisas that I need!

No, no. Nevermind. Home Depot was clearly trying to steer me toward this thing:


This "thing" is the answer to my shoe problem. Look--my name is right next to it.

No, false alarm. No shoe racks at Home Depot, just my name oddly taped to every available surface for no discernible reason. In the end, I left the Depot, disappointed and smelling of sawdust. A modern day Shoe Rackless Joe Jackson.

On the way home, I stopped by Target. I needed some cute summer basics at affordable prices. As I was strolling through the store, dodging snot-nosed kids, I walked past the Home Fashions section. Could it be? Yes! Yes, it was! A shoe rack!

All was right with the world. Until I got in line. The cashier and I exchanged pleasantries, and she began to ring up my items, her "I'm in Training!" tag shining in the fluorescent light. She was pleasant and expedient enough.

Out of no where, a God-awful tarantula woman clamored up and heaved her goods on the conveyor. After 10 seconds, she boomed, "Gah, could you move any slower?" to poor Bieng May, whose training videos clearly never covered this topic, as evidenced by her quivering lip and spastic nodding.

I whipped my head around so quickly some of my hair got stuck in my teeth. My pretties, I am polite to the Nth degree, but I don't deal well with other people who are not. You know the saying, "Red sky at night, sailors' delight. Red head overhears a rude bitch in Target and she's going to regulate."

"There's really no need for that, " I said. "You can see she's still in training. Perhaps you'd be happier in another line."

"Oh, I know I would, " our behemoth huffed, her buck teeth punctuating her displeasure.

"You know, your rudeness isn't going to make her go faster," I logically offered.

"No, nothing probably will," she snorted and shot me a look.

We only have a precious few moments in our lives when we have precisely the right words for the situation. Suffice to say, I have one less coming to me:

I pursed my lips and delivered, "It's amazing what you can do on the Internet now. People like you don't even have to leave their homes."

I bid Bieng May a good evening, picked up my shoe rack and glided off, while the Human Ham Sandwich glared at me with her mouth agape.

It's all in a day's work.

In the Comments section, tell me about your best comeback.