Supplies!

I went to Home Depot to get a few things. Just inside the store, I turned right to head to the gardening section. At once I found myself surrounded by a veritable forest of artificial pine trees, pine wreaths, and colored lights. The Christmas decorations were out, quite out of season. Just when I was thinking about getting some Autumn themed decor to adorn my balcony, Home Depot brought out singing Santas. The decorations may have been everywhere I looked, but I didn't have to worry about the employees. They were as absent as the Cubs around this time of year. The employees left me to ponder the practicality of putting up pine wreaths in the first week of October. Just like the Depot's marketing team, I didn't give it much thought and walked through to the gardening section. Here, there were aisles of real plants in real dirt with real lights. The sign said that the plants were annuals. I didn't see any Christmas trees around, but figured I could plant these plants anytime. From behind some tall, Texas grasses, I peered across the area and spotted a woman clad in an orange apron. I was hungry, but that was no cooking attire. This was the signature uniform of a rare breed known to some as a Home Depot employee. I kept my distance, but she could see me as I stood 3 feet higher than the grassland grasses that I gazed from behind. The lady ignored me still and followed protocol. She walked aimlessly in small figure eight patterns. I did my best to look confused about the flowers through which I was browsing, but failed miserably. My knowledge of these plants is as extensive as one of those little plastic labels that falls out on the ground when you're about to plant your Mums in full shade. After a thorough study, and even a quick glance at some of the plants, I went back inside. I was well past the Christmas decorations and nearly convinced that it was still October when a middle-aged woman greeted me. She was standing beside a large grey box that was nearly her size. The box was a brand new TRANE air conditioner. She was an air conditioner sales lady. The month was October. I just about had the confused look down when a Home Depot employee (Homer) asked me how I was doing. My response was that I was fine. He seemed satisfied so I pressed him with a question. I told him that I was looking for the curtains section. Homer relayed directions complete with a detailed "over there" gesture by way of an outstretched arm and finger. I spotted what he so aptly described. Then he realized that I saw the back corner of the store, from our location in the center of the store, while he was left with his meandering monologue. Noting my ability to look and see something, he asked how tall I was. This left him bewildered and rhetorically asking for confirmation. Homer continued talking to himself; insisting that a "John" character had to see "this". As the diminutive dimwitted do-it-yourselfer dilly-dallied, I strode on to the curtain section. The hobbit sized Homer scrambled to keep up. As we passed an intersection of aisles, Homer called to his co-workers. He announced that he was 5'6" and also heralded my height. The employee did his best to show me off like any number of things that you might show off. As our little parade rounded the corner, another orange-clad comrade dropped what he was doing. From his new position down on the floor, this guy advised Homer to watch out and make sure that I didn't step on him. I did not step on either of them. A moment later, I found what I needed and thanked the man. Back up front, the only option was an automated checkout machine. After paying, I passed by the TRANE lady on my way out. She pitched her pitch again, asking if I had any air problems at my house with which she could help. I neglected obvious puns and told her that I didn't have a house. At this she abruptly ceased fire and changed her expression. I avoided the impending sales speech and left the store.