The best actors I've ever seen are the guys who work at Home Depot. They treat me like I'm a real, do-it-yourself, he-man, handyman even after I've been back eight times in one day exchanging the same thing. I start off by buying some half-inch lug nuts, then I'm back every hour returning it. 9:50 a.m.: "This 5/8 -- I really need a 7/8." 11:25 a.m.: "This 7/8 -- I really need a 9/16." 1:17 p.m: "This 9/16 -- I really need a 1/2." At five minutes before closing I'm still at the returns desk. 8:55 p.m.: "This paint brush -- what I really need is a drill bit." And yet, through it all, the Home Depot workers continue to treat me like I'm a real handyman. For me, it's like a spa. A woman goes to a salon and gets the star treatment. She hears, "After your manicure and massage, you'll get a hair styling and be beautiful outside as well as beautiful within." Wow -- what self esteem that builds. I get that same ego boost when the Home Depot guy tells me, "You could build a deck." "Me?" "Sure -- in five easy steps." He goes on and by step two, I'm glazed over like a donut. I'm nodding, but just listening to the music on the PA system. I'm thinking, Is that Jewel? Man, she writes pretty lyrics. And I keep nodding. It's that same nod we all have when we're on vacation and some local guy is giving us directions to the lake. "Let me give you the shortcut!" the local guy insists. He tells you to cut through his friends' yard. ("They won't care - they knowed me since we was in kindygarten!") He'll give you weird directions. "Go on up to what used to be a fork in the road, but now it's a spoon. Keep driving around in that oval till you receive a sign from God. About this time o' year, the sign from God comes in the form of a giant bluebird wearing Air Jordans..." And we keep nodding. In fact, I calculated that I've spent two and a half weeks of my life nodding at instructions I don't understand. So I decided to cut it out. For instance, in the hardware store I said, "I've got to paint the basement." The clerk said, "You'll need paint, brushes, and to cut your new baseboard at an angle so it fits in the corner, you'll need a miter box--" "Job's canceled," I said. "Kaput." "Why?" "Miter box. Cutting wood at an angle," I said. "But, sir, it's easy," he said. "I'm sure it is -- and I'll still screw it up. Then I'll be back every hour, making exchanges, and you'll have to keep treating me like I'm Bob Vila. Let's cut the crap and save us all time." So we just listened to Jewel on the PA system. "She writes pretty lyrics," he said. Then he admitted something. "I was about ready to admit to you that I didn't know what I was talking about." And it's true. These hardware store guys don't know anything, either. They just walk you up and down 35 aisles and throw stuff into your cart. You buy it, bring it home, throw it on the table, and that's what you have to use -- whatever it is you have to fix or build. It's like Apollo 13. That's Ron Howard's next flick. "The Mission: Mark Morelli Fixes His Screen Door." I want Tom Hanks to play me, kicking in the door in his most menacing "Road to Perdition" face. The Home Depot clerks -- the best actors on the planet -- will play themselves.
