…and the hot guys hang out at Lowe’s…

So, the day started a little later than I would have liked.  After writing, I picked up a favorite book and read for a bit before I finally turned off the light before the sun could shine on the ground.  Yes, up late again.  At least it wasn’t because I was in front of the computer…

When the alarm clock went off at 7:30am, I looked at it like it was on crack and promptly shut it off.  Yeah, not a good idea on a huge packing day, but how can you get focused and pack on no sleep?  So, at 10:30am, my eyes finally opened and I started my day.

I immediately went to work on the one thing I realized I had forgotten all week, moving the utilities.  Note for all of you who have to move…everything is pretty much automated now, you can get on a computer or a phone and set up service moves a month in advance.  The post office, not so much, you have to arrange for them two weeks before.  Learn a lesson now, versus me just finding this out…move your services as early as possible so you don’t have to put up with a power company automated system saying it will call you back, but doesn’t.

All in all, it wasn’t bad.  After battling it out with automated systems and being on eternal hold, I got it all done and headed for the shower, makeup and a very bad hair day.  The bad hair day doesn’t bother me, I’m moving, I have an excuse to have my hair up in a ponytail…but here’s something I just learned about Murphy’s Law…the minute you have a bad hair day, you get confronted with a smörgåsbord of good looking guys.

I found out about the kink in Mr. Murphy’s rulebook when I was out running errands.  It started out by dropping off checks at my apartment complex’s office.  I dealt with mainly women, but I became very aware of the haphazard piece of hair coming out of my ponytail like it had been struck by lightning.  Not good, but hey, I’m moving, right?  *rolleyes*

It gets better though.  The next stop?  Box Brothers to pick up even more boxes for the move.  The guy who runs the store is a real cutie, older than me by at least 15 years, but even if he is in his 50’s, he still gets cute points, but of course, his eye goes to the haphazard piece of hair…ok, after that, the ponytail said so long, I couldn’t take it anymore.  I looked in the mirror, I was highly presentable without the ponytail, so we were all good, but Vegas at this time of the year is like being trapped in a blast furnace, so after grabbing a bit of lunch, the heat forced me to put my ponytail back in, and you guessed it, that stray piece that’s a part of my bangs just had to stick out like a sore thumb.

Next up was a stop at the Lowe’s just up the road from my apartment complex.  I had to get more garbage bags (like this is surprising…) and a few other odds and ends.

I was standing in the cleaning supplies row (looking at the different sizes of garbage bags available; yes, I’ve become a connoisseur of garbage bags), and lo and behold, a hot guy and his little 11-year-old son walk down the aisle and park themselves in close proximity.  Yes, I looked…he was single, but no, he was too focused on a bottle of cleaning agent to look over at me until his son decided he was going to sandwich himself between the stacks of enormous garbage cans.  Just when the kid was about to take out a whole row of cans trying to get out, I step in, catch the one garbage can, that if tipped, would have caused certain disaster, and saved the kid from an embarrassing situation.  The kid beamed at me and thanked me, the dad looked up, smiled, and promptly went back to his cleaning agent.  *Sigh*  I just can’t quite seem to catch a break, so I took my items to the checkout, paid for my goods and finally got home at around 3pm.

My mother arrived at 4.  She was all hip and rip-roaring to go as she promptly grabbed everything out of every single last cupboard that I hadn’t gotten to yet and placed them into boxes.  I have to give Mom kudos. Any other person looking in my fridge and seeing bottles of Stoli, Malibu Rum, Lemoncello, Miller Chill, Pacifico, Bartles & James’ Mojito and Berry wine coolers, several flavors of Mike’s Hard Lemonade and two large bottles of Canadian Microbrew, not to mention the Heineken in another cabinet, probably would have looked at me like I was an alcoholic.

I’ve got a lot of liquor in my house…ok, I left out the bottles of Bailey’s, Grand Mariner and Bacardi Gold that were on the buffet, along with an unopened bottle of California Riesling hanging out on my kitchen counter.  Yes, I have a lot of liquor, but most of it is unopened or untouched.  The Bailey’s and Grand Mariner were here because the ex loved those, I have the rum for the rum cakes I make, the Malibu is unopened (I bought it a few years back) and is for my own personal consumption, much less to say, I’ve not consumed it yet.  The vodka was from when the ex was making his own lox.  So, really, yes, I have a lot of booze…but no one will come over and help me drink it!!!!  *looks around nervously*  Yeah, that’s it.

Mom was such a sport, she went through my cupboards and organized the boxes that would be carrying my dry goods over to the new apartment.  Along the way, we got to throw out even more stuff.  Ah yes, La Purga continues.  (If you don’t get the La Purga reference, go watch “Angels and Demons” again.  It’s Ewan.  You WANT to watch it, even if he is playing a psycho priest.  La Purga is Italian for “The Purge”.)

Then more garbage bags filled up.  By the time I had made 5 more trips (10 bags) down to the dumpster and had moved around more boxes than I can count, Mom and I decided to take a look at the oven in my kitchen.  Mom freaked.  I never really noticed what was happening in my oven, (remember me, the enabled one?)  Well, I’ve never really opened the oven all the way up, there’s no light inside, and it’s usually just wide enough to get stuff in and out. Remember, when I cook, everything goes in and out of the oven really fast. Let’s not overlook the fact that I’ve not used my oven very often since the ex decided to put the E-X in E-X-I-T.  So with all that, I never really noticed what was happening in there.  When she told me that the oven wasn’t painted that color on the interior, I realized what was going on and cringed so hard it hurt.  To be honest, I nearly barfed.  Oy!  Forgot about that one…seems as my ex never bothered to clean the oven after he used it to cook steaks…feeling me yet?  Ok, so at seeing what was happening there, Mom sent me over to Lowe’s for their strongest and fastest acting oven cleaner.

So back at Lowe’s for the second time in a day, I realize that I didn’t want to leave the catches under the stove burners in their very damaged state (thanks again to the ex for that, I’ve been taking an SOS pad to them every week for the last year and they still haven’t come clean, so I decided to replace them along with picking up the oven cleaner.  Note to self:  Every single hot guy in the world descends on the local Lowe’s at around 6pm.

It’s too bad I discovered that hot guys frequent Lowe’s on a day that I’m covered in dirt and sweat, dressed in an old pair of cargo shorts and a very large t-shirt.  To put it mildly, it wasn’t very flattering.  At that point, my hair was not only in a ponytail, but it was double pulled through the rubber band holding my hair up making a quasi bun.  So, out of sheer necessity and the desperate need to keep cool, I ended up with stray pieces of hair sticking out at every possible angle, creating a look I’ll call “completely disheveled”. It’s the exact moment I’m going up every single aisle in Lowe’s and can’t find the catches for the burners, but instead find a hot guy on every row.  So, I go to find an employee that can point me in the direction of the stove supplies and what do I find?  Only one of the hottest guys my age I’ve seen in over 10 years with a Lowe’s vest on.  At that point, I wanted to crawl under the cap of the oven cleaner and die.  I’m convinced that when you look your crappiest, the hottest guys come out of the woodwork.  It seemed as everywhere I turned there was a guy that was some variation of hot.  Ever had one of those moments where you want the movie crew to come in and give you the appearance of a supermodel so you could get out of the store with the least amount of embarrassment?  Yeah, I was there.

But, the funniest part of the whole thing…as I put my purchases in my car to try to escape the embarrassment of looking like hell in hot guy heaven, a truck parked right next to me.  Yeah, it was the kind of truck that’s jacked up at least six inches off of its axles with the loud rumbling engine and super knobby tires.  As I looked over at the driver, expecting to see another hot guy, I sat shocked as I looked upon a woman who was easily in her 80’s.

I laughed all the way home.

So, yeah, all the hot guys hang out at Lowe’s.  Make a note of that one girls.

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