As I'm sure most people do, I choose Lowe's over Home Depot because when the day comes that I get lost and can't find the exit I would rather be spending the night at Lowe's. I think that the pervasive orange color at Home Depot would keep me up all night. And if I actually did get to sleep (in the carpet section of course), my dreams would probably be orange. Unless my dream was about eating oranges in my orange pajamas at my orange alma mater where the mascot is an Orangeman, it would be strange.
At Lowes, I typically rely way too heavily on the signs at the end of each aisle. I paced back and forth in the electrical section, wondering which aisle would have my light timer. This took at least as much time as it would have taken me to walk all three aisles. But, I didn't want to be too far from the exit so late in the day (11am).
While pacing, I witnessed an altercation between a store representative and a customer. The store representative, who looked and acted a bit scatter-brained and anxious, stopped the customer near the front of the store and reprimanded him for opening product boxes and taking out only the parts he needed. The customer denied it at first, but couldn't explain the item in his hand that looked identical to the item displayed on the box now being presented by the store employee. Once the customer confessed to his crime, the store employee calmed down and realized that the fun had just ended. I agreed and committed to an aisle.
I found the light switches and only the best would do for our $6 million robotic system. It cost $15 and has two settings and a digital display. The robots will be happy. In a pinch, we could also borrow it to automatically turn on a light when MIT closes for the next holiday.
I decided that while I was there, I would ask someone if they sold peristaltic pumps. You do not need to know what a peristaltic pump is to understand the rest of this story.
I didn't think that they would have them, but I always wanted to kill two birds with one stone. I turned to find assistance and guess who I found. The scatter-brained and anxious store rep was placing now-complete and sealed product boxes back on a shelf.
First, I thought God don't let me get caught overnight in this place with him. Anyone but him.
Having forgotten to turn off my idiot magnet that morning, I approached him.
"Do you sell peristaltic pumps?" I asked.
"A what?" he replied.
"Peristaltic pumps," I replied.
"What are they?" he asked.
While making a circular motion with my finger and assuming that he heard me say pumps twice, I explained,"They move liquids from one place to another." I was trying to avoid explaining the application for which I needed one.
"You need a bucket," he promptly replied.
(insert sound of nighttime crickets here)
"No. It's a pump and it moves the liquid automatically through a hose or tubing," I said.
"Aaahhhhhh. You don't mean a peristaltic pump. You mean a drill motor pump." As he said this and started leading me deeper into the store, he was laughing in a way that indicated that he thought I made up the word 'peristaltic'. I was tempted to explain that the word also described the wave-like motion his digestive tract was doing with that slice of Cranky Pie he must have eaten. Instead, I followed quietly.
He handed me a drill pump, which works by peristalsis but is done manually with a hand-operated drill.
"I want something that I can plug in and will pump continuously and automatically," I said once again.
"Ohhhhhh. You mean a peristaltic pump."
I paid for the light timer, found the exit, and got out safely. I didn't have to spend the night, but it was too close for comfort.
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