A few days ago, Pat needed to “run” some errands (very hard to run with crutches) and since I have no life, I accompanied him. As usual. I forget everywhere we had to go, but as this story is about Staples, it’s good that I remember that particular portion of the excursion.
Pat already knew that bringing me to Staples is a risky affair, so he demanded I leave my purse in the car. That bit will make sense later. Then we hobbled slowly into the store. Pat’s girlfriend Catherine commanded him to pick up staples (I know, right?) and something else (not important. Neither are the staples, really, but I remembered those. I was proud.) In order to get to the staples, we had to walk down the aisle sporting writing utensils. This is where things got ugly.
Lately, since Pat’s on crutches, I’m much faster than him. Upon entering the writing utensil aisle, Pat became Donovan Bailey (he’s still relevant, right?) to my Jimmy the Rat with his cement shoes on. That last sentence didn’t make a lot of sense, eh? Well, he was fast and I was slow. I spent a good five minutes (or a bad five for Pat) detailing the advantages of mechanical pencils styled to look like NON-mechanical pencils. And there are many! And there was a 24-pack of coloured Sharpies! And fancy wooden pencils with funky patterns on them! And a 500-pen pack of the “Bic Crystal” blue pens that are the only pens I will use! I am really enthusiastic about office supplies. I spent almost 10 minutes trying to convince Pat that he needed a king-sized box of ultra-deluxe staples to “get the most out of his Swingline”. That wasn’t what I said. It’s what the box said. It was a very convincing box (DIRTY). (KIND OF.)
Now the wallet/purse bit makes sense, eh? Well, as I’m mostly broke, I’m no longer allowed in Staples. But believe me, I will definitely tell you an awesome story of why Staples doesn’t want me in Staples anymore. With pictures!