take this job and glove it

In preparation for this flood, ahem, water release, I had to make a stop at the neighborhood hardware store. To me, hardware store is more an oxymoron than a place of business but alas, dad said buy leather gloves. So I did. 

And so the story goes. 

Naturally, I didn't know what kind of gloves to buy or where a store would locate such hand protectors. In fact, I didn't know a lot of things. Did you know you could by both heavy-duty power hoses, extra strength mildew-cleaner-offer and Hershey's chocolate all in the same location?  

I don't know if it was the length of my hair or the click of my high heels, but the hardware personnel somehow knew this shopping experience was a first for me. 

Soon a nice lady with a ponytail in her hair was showing me leather padded gloves, leather insulated gloves and chemical protectant gloves. 

No, no, I said. How about these purple ones? 

Those are for gardening, she said.

But they're the cutest, I said.

She told me no. I shouldn't bother sandbagging in those and with that attitude, I shouldn't bother sandbagging at all. You're a city-ruiner, she said.

Ok, she didn't say it. But I could tell she was glad she lived uphill. 

I told her if I could survive this winter wearing snow boots only once, I deserve a little credit. And by credit, I mean credit card for my hard-earned summer shopping spree.

Leather gloves or none at all, she said.

Fine.

I don't know what the different padding, textures and colors meant. I just knew they all were both ugly and smelled like the inside of a cowboy boot. I settled for the only Men's Small (for my dainty little hands!) in the whole store. 

Sandbagging begins tonight. Wish me luck. Or send peanut butter balls. If I can't save the world, at least I'll have a tasty treat to keep me busy until the coast guard comes.

Thanks.