June 4, 2011

Whatever gets your rocks off....

Last Monday we ripped out some really horendous bushes in the front of the house and decided to fill the area with river rock. Maybe throw some whiskey barrels in the rock with a few flowers in them for decoration . Whatever will require the most minimal amount of maintenance possible since I am sooo not a gardener. We go to our local hardware/clothing/horse feed/garden center after we rip those ugly suckers out to buy the river rock and are told they have 19 bags on hand. The husband tells them to load them all up we'll take them. We pull the truck around and of course him and I end up throwing these heavy ass bags in the truck bed ourselves because we didn't tip for that extra service or something.

Me: Bend. Lift with knees. Grunt. Set bag in back. Count 1 bag. Repeat to bag 3. Stop. Watch and count to 17 as Husband loads the rest of the bags. Umm... last I checked 17 is less than and not an alternative to 19. There inventory is off 2 bags. No big deal. We get the money for the 2 bags credited and are told there will be more in on Wednesday. Husband checks on Friday and nope, they didn't order any more, but the computer shows 2 bags left. My Husband, politely I'm sure, tells lady that no, we bought you out last weekend. After arguing with nice sales lady, since according to her, the computer can never be wrong, husbands leaves.

Today we got to the much bigger version of our everything store in a city 40 miles away to complete the rock garden dreamscape. We buy a few things in the store and ask the cash registerist (like that title?) how many bags of the river rock they have on hand. 41. Ring 'em up says husband. We pay and head to our big red Dodge. Pull the truck around and what do we see when we get out? Not 41 bags of river rock. Not 30, not 29, not 10 but 3 bags!

The very young boys working told us that they were bringing around another pallet. Sweet, sounds good. 5 minutes pass and nothing. The boys check over the little headsets on the progress of the rock search and discover the monkey running the forklift can't find it. We devise a plan of attack. The 2 boys are going to assist in the rock hunt and we are going to sneak up all ninja like in our super-loud truck and block it in. We creep over to the secret rock breeding grounds and find out they have fled the area.

I myself have had some bad inventory results after running a retail store for many years, but how in the hell does almost 2,000 pounds of rock disappear?? I will tell you how. Someone in the middle of Iowa is also creating a landscape wonderland made from river rock but is much smarter than we are. They are driving around in the middle of the night and loading bags and bags of the shit in their horse trailer, or whatever, and high tailing it back to their home. Stupid us...we thought we would pay 3 bucks a bag for 60 bags and only take 20 home.

Dream....


Reality...

2 comments:

thingsicantsaymichelle said...

Oh, that is hilarious! Hmmm, maybe I should do some middle of the night "shopping...."

Was giggling at your answers to the blogger face off, so I thought I'd come over and meet you!

P.S. If you change your comments to the pop up kind instead of embedded, it will get around Blogger's current annoying problem of not letting people sign in with their Google id. :)

Striving for Mediocrity said...

Just make sure wherever you go to do your late night shopping is completely devoid of cameras....and is away from heavily trafficked areas. I really had no clue about the last paragraph of your comment, but I figured it out and just gave myself a pat on the back! Thanks for the tip:)