Today on my way to work - late - I stopped by a hardware store/lumber yard that I drive past every day on my way to work. Now this is a store that is definitely out of my comfort zone. I would be like I went into REI. My eyes would roll back in my head and I would have an out of body experience. But I'm looking for wood latticing and they didn't have it at the big-ass Lowe's, which I also drive past every day. A young redneck looking kid approached me, but he was very helpful, and got me what I wanted and then this older, glad-handing kind of guy wrote me up, all the time ribbing the younger guy - 'he's like a son to me. I never had kids'. but then goes on to tell me he does have grandkids now, and I'm not sure how that works. I told him I only had the four legged variety, then corrected myself: two legged, also, the chickens. And he pulls out a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and gives it to me. Tells me not to open it up in the store, wait until I got home, as it would make me cry. So, I put it in my wallet. Outside the kid was eyeing my car: how we gonna do this? And I realize that while my little car holds a LOT of crap, there was not way it was going to accommodate these lattice panels. So, they kindly roped it to the top of my car and all in all, I really just loved being there. Fuck Lowes. This is my new hardware store. And when I got to work, I pulled out his little piece of paper and it was a poem to his dead dog, Hoagie. It wasn't very good, but just the idea that this big jolly hardware guy had written a poem, first off, and then to his dog. Well. And I did cry.