Commence Writing Me Hate Mail Now

One day I bought two barstools from Bed, Bath and Beyond. One broke, and it has taken me two months to find a replacement. Last night I finally found one, which was located on a high shelf. It involved taking down three of the wrong colored stools, and wrestling with a horizontal metal bar which was supposed to prevent the correctly colored stools from falling and hitting someone in the head. Slight flaw in the engineering logic there, because then it was impossible to get to the stools behind the bar. This is the single time in my life that I’ve gone to this store and there’s been no one up in my grill asking if they can help me. I wrestled for several minutes to get the metal bar down (I don’t work well above my head). Finally a stool broke free and jumped off the shelf like a lemming. First it hit me squarely in the head, and then broke into kindling as it hit the floor. I honestly had that cartoon moment where I saw tweety birds circling my head. Now fueled by anger and adrenaline, I jerked the stool I wanted down with my super human strength and sustained no further injury. I have this really annoying honesty/good karma personality trait that compels me to tell someone if they’ve given me back too much change, etc. It really gets on my nerves. I pushed down all those urges and left the piece of shit bar stool lying on the floor. I figured it was retribution for my concussion and for my broken sunglasses which had been sitting on my head.