A rando story about a recent trip to a big box hardware store
I was pretty high—like, as high as a Donkey in a Tree. You know that perfect high? Yeah, that was me. So, I’m getting ready to leave house, and just as I’m walking out the door, my buddy shows up. I hand him the joint I’m smoking—some Guava Fig, by SunMed, love that strain—and we’re off to the hardware store.
Now, this place… it’s huge. Like, massive. Thats when “The High Uncle” starts narrating the scene with that High Uncle voice, “What if you had to go to the bathroom and you were all the way in the front of the store? You’d never make it bro!” Aaaaand here we go, the sitcom writers in my stoned ass head arrive for work.
ok now the scene cuts to these older folks, who just peed at home for the trip and now they gotta pee again on arrival, knowing full on the bathroom is 3-1/4 miles out -they’ve been here before. My thoughts jump to calculating how big this store must be -to many blocks to count and multiply.
Here we go, I’m imaging the journey to the restroom being 3 miles longer than the trip from your house to the store. I’m just standing there, visualizing all these scenarios. Alright now -I snap-to and instantly get the -Im too high for this -lets just focus, get our shit and bolt.
As I’m walking down a rando isle headed toward the doors and then—Guh-Duschz!—I spot this Impact driver I’ve been wanting for a while but cant afford quite yet. I know Im not gonna buy it but I want to check it out. The side of the box facing me is in Spanish -I took latin. So, I take it off the shelf to flip it over looking for the English side… and that’s when shit went pear shaped.
This fukin LOUD ass alarm goes off. Like, loud loud. I’m holding the box, just standing there looking around for what happened when I realize: the box has an alarm! I’m holding it! I’m thinking, “tha fuk? I’m in the middle of the store, Im not even near a door, and this alarm is going off like I’m some kind social justice looter.”
I look around. I swear I can feel everyone’s eyes on me! I can see people walking by in my peripheral vision, all eyeballing me, probably wondering what the hell I’m doing. Nope, not a single person is looking, not even one acknowledgement of this piercingly high pitched noise. -no I really feel like a looter -no one cared. So I act accordingly to blend in, like it’s not even happening and put that dude back on the shelf and step away Bill Murry Caddie Shack style, whistling, holding my hand to the side of my face wondering off.
The whole time, I’m getting these wild thoughts—like, what if I just kept holding to it? What if I put it in the cart and go about my shopping? Just walked around with this alarm blaring then go up to the checkout? Then scene cut to me doing this not even acknowledge it, just roll up to the register, “BEEP fukin BEEP” -get my receipt and I walk off into the sunset. I even started imagining how long it goes off after you purchase it. -fukin alarm blaring in the shed all night. Ha! -Im an idiot.
And ya know, heres the thing—the alarm never stopped! Not the entire time we were in the store. It just kept going, and not a single person ever acknowledged it.
I left empty handed but still pretty buzzed, I stopped at the grocery store. Thats in another High Uncle Segment Im in my 50s and my wife says I eat like a 12 year old.
