Do-it-yourself Assclowns

Today, I went to plug the laptop charger into its usual outlet only to be disappointed . I could only get juice if I jiggled the plug continuously. The receptacle, in question, is the only one that is convenient to my kitchen table. This means that it's a necessity, not only for charging my electronics but also for powering some of the arc welding equipment that has become a staple at the weekly orgies that I have become fond of hosting. But that's another story. The bottom line is that it was beyond repair and had to replaced. This just sucked because it meant a trip to the local Lowe's instead of watching the Giants assrape the Redskins on national television.

I get to the Lowe's in Cockeysville, and the place is packed. I go to the electrical dept and find the new receptacle and start to look for some cheap wire strippers. Unfortunately, there is an Assclown standing directly between me and my potential purchase. As a veteran Assclown Spotter, I recognize the telltale signs: He is wearing an immaculately pressed button-down shirt with a horsey on it and a look of complete befuddlement. He spied me and immediately tried to press a bag of wirenuts into my hands while asking "Will these work for fluorescent lighting?" I avoided his offering and replied, "I'm sorry, but I don't work here." I mistakenly believed that my tone would convey the idea that I didn't want to be bothered. He looked at the receptacle in my hand and persevered, "Yes, but I'm asking you. Will these work on fluorescent lights?" I relent and take the bag from him. The wirenuts were riduculously large, big enough to be used for connecting a home electric chair or even as part of this girl's halloween costume. I exchange his bag for a bag of more appropriate sized connectors and say, "This will work for you. Good luck. "

I resume my search for overpriced wire strippers when I realize that I am not to be rid of this Assclown so easily. This time he handed me a light ballast and says, "They gave me this and told me it will work, but he didn't seem to sure of himself." I assumed he was referring to a Lowe's employee and on this score I could I could sympathize. It is rare to find a knowledgable employee in these places. This is because all of the knowledgable employees are in the Lawn/Garden section doing themselves in by shoving their heads into woodchippers, due to the daily stress caused by dealing with Assclowns.

The prospect of being deprived of the pleasure of watching Tiki Barber continue his onslaught was looming large in my mind. Nevertheless, I relented further and asked, "Did you bring the old ballast. You know, the one that you want to replace?" He replied "Well, no. I needed to leave the light on so I could see how it was wired." Hmmm. I said, "I see. If the light is lit, why do you want to replace the ballast?" He responded, "Well, it makes this awful buzzing sound. Replacing the ballast looked a lot easier when they did it on TV." I toyed with the idea of asking him if he ever watched the surgery channel and, if so, whether he had ever contemplated performing an appendectomy on himself or family. Instead, I simply tell him that his old ballast is probably fine and that the buzzing is due to loose screws used to mount the ballast. He appeared both relieved and disappointed. Relieved by avoiding the spectre of certain electrocution and, probably, disappointed that he wasn't going to get to buy a spiffy toolbelt, perhaps even one with a horsey on it.

Of course, at this point, a Lowe's employee showed up, undoubtedly fresh from an exploratory mission in the woodchipper aisle, and offered to help us both. I politely declined, got my strippers, and returned home to find that Mr. Barber went on to have a career day in my absence.