Home improvement stores are large and it is often difficult to find the things that you need.

What would you do if another customer came up and rudely demanded that you help her find some screws?

That is what happened to the customer in this story, so he got condescending with her, and made it clear that he doesn’t work there, even after she went and got another employee.

I don’t work here and you couldn’t pick someone more clueless, lady

Background: I am absolutely horrible when it comes to being a handyman.

Oh, I’m just like this guy.

If you need something unbalanced or put together wrong, I’m your guy. But each time something occurs, I think that’s the time I’ll get it right. Hasn’t happened yet.

But hope springs eternal, which is why I am frequently at an orange big box store where they claim that I can build it and they can help.

I’m having increasing doubts about this claim, but anyway. If you’re familiar with this place, which we’ll call HD, employees wear orange shirts, slacks and a smock. I do not own an orange shirt, as it is against my “religion”.

So, its not like he looks like an employee.

I frequently wear maroon shirts, with the logo of a certain awesome university in College Station, Texas, on it. If you know what I mean, gig ‘em and you know why there’s no orange in the collection.

So take a maroon shirt, add grey gym shorts and I’m really not a candidate for employee of the month — or employee at all.

So, I’m looking for some very long, thin screws to hang a shadow box. Also am looking for drill bits, since I lost the last set in our recent move.

Do they move things around between each visit? It sure seems like it sometimes.

So, I’m wandering the aisles, cluelessly, looking for my stuff. I should know where things are, but this happens every. Single. Time. Maybe I’m thinking of the stuff I could do if I wasn’t useless. Whatever.

I see a rather attractive lady, about my age, with a cart and she’s moving rather quickly. I smile but say nothing, heading the other way down the aisle.

At least the guy was able to help.

I run into a guy who lived down the street from us before the move, exchange pleasantries and ask him where the screws are. He points me to the correct aisle and I head off.

I find the screws but not the exact ones and am looking at the massive bunch of them hanging up like an art snob looks at the Mona Lisa. Just kind of staring.

Now what?

And then the fabled “excuse me”. The flustered, irritated, I’m better than you “excuse me”.

(Being a fan of this place, I immediately thought, “they really do that?”)

I turn and look over my shoulder and raise my eyebrows but don’t say anything. It’s that lady, who shall now be called, you got it, Karen.

Wow, she is rude even if the guy were an employee.

K: I need to get some drywall nails. Get them for me.

Me: these are screws. I know that for a fact. Look behind you.

No lady, it is not his job.

K: YOU LOOK BEHIND ME! IT’S YOUR JOB!

Me (perplexed): that’s a fascinating assumption. How did you get there from here?

K: I saw you talking to your co-worker (how she did that, I don’t know. Maybe she turned around)! You’ve been up several aisles! He told you what you needed to do!

Just accept that you were wrong, lady.

Me: ma’am, I don’t work here. In fact, I’m probably the worst person you could ask for help here.

K: don’t give me that lie! Do your job!

Me: pointing at my shirt. This says “Aggies”. It is maroon. They wear orange and don’t wear t-shirts. They wear slacks and don’t wear gym shorts.

She just isn’t giving up.

K: So you’re dressed down! So what!

Me (turning around): look… I found the screws. Turn and wave them at her as inspiration strikes. “Get screwed.”

What does she have to be upset about, he actually helped her.

She invites me to procreate with myself and storms off.

I had to the drill bits and here comes Karen, with my old neighbor. “Hey Earnest, you adding a little crazy to your rounds today?” I asked.

“See, it’s your buddy,” she sneered. “He wouldn’t help and was rude. I don’t care if he’s not dressed or on the clock, he’s not professional.”

What does she expect this guy to do?

My old neighbor laughs. “He’s also a moron when it comes to this stuff.”

Can’t really argue that, so I just give the Michael Jordan shrug.

Hopefully this sets her straight.

Earnest then says, “but he doesn’t work here. Never has. We’d fire him. Totally clueless.”

“I did find the screws,” I said defensively.

Finally, she is gone.

K cusses us a little more and storms off. Earnest and I share a stare and go our separate ways after I get the drill bits.

I get home and hang the shadow box. It fell off the wall.

How did this lady not realize that she was in the wrong? It should have been so obvious.

Oh well, read on to see what the people in the comments have to say about this.

This commenter loved the story.

No, I don’t see this happening either.

Here is another guy who can’t do home improvement projects.

The story was very funny.

Here is a commenter who thought it was pretty funny.

He helped her, she just didn’t like how he did it.

If you liked that post, check out this post about a rude customer who got exactly what they wanted in their pizza.