The best thing about apartment living for me was the ability to get things fixed by picking up the phone and calling a guy.
A frightening prospect of owning a home, for me, is the reality that I can't "call a guy," every time something needs repair.
Which, last Saturday morning, led me through the doors of the nearby Home Depot.
My small project involved the vertical blinds in front of the patio door. The individual blinds rubbed against the door's trim, making it more difficult to draw and close as well as damaging the delicate way each blind hung on its clip.
The solution, it seemed to me, was to push the blind attachments out from the wall a quarter-inch. To create the space, I wanted to get small pieces of wood between the bracket and wall.
But getting the wood and getting it the right shape? That's where I began to wonder where to turn.
My experience with other Big Box stores didn't give me much hope, but it was worth a shot.
Just walking into a place like this might be what it feels like to be a visiting team in Lambeau Field. I found the lumber section, where I wandered around hoping pieces of wood to jump into my hands.
Thankfully, when it didn't happen an associate offered assistance. She helped locate the right kind of lumber and then directed me to a portable workbench. The bench had sharpened saws, a tape measure, and proper cutting surface. It was a better idea than the dining room table back at the house.
In today's D-I-Y world, customer service can seem like a relic from the dark ages when there were helpful smiles in every aisle.
Thanks to the Home Depot, I found help there.
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