no i totally wrote this whole thing up last week, and then the compu’s battery ran out and then things got too crazy for me to retype it and SUCH IS LIFE
but luckily i had a reminder! yay! my memory is tiny and y’all are awesome
so anywho, BLUE PAINT GUY
So for the past year-and-a-bit i’ve been working in the paint department at a big warehouse store. Mixing paint colors, helping people find tools and shit, dealing with all the horrible scheduling and weird-ass customers that are apparently a universal constant with retail work.
So one day, this guy comes in, and he says his wife sent him to pick up a gallon of paint for the baby’s room. I ask him if they have a color picked out, or a sample of something i can match the color to. NOPE. No he wants me to show him some colors.
That right there is freaking Red Flag #1, You Have No Idea What You’re Doing, and this is about to go Downhill FAST. As one of my coworkers always says “We’re not allowed to sell a husband a can of paint without a signed letter from his wife” that shit never goes well. (Usually at this point i’d try and foist him off on one of my more experienced co-workers, but lucky me, it was a late shift and just me there)
But anyway, I ask him if he prefers one brand of paint to another and he does, so I take him over to look at those color cards, and on the way he says “And i don’t want any of those girly colors, this is a boy’s room” and kindof gives me a look like “You’re a girl, you wouldn’t understand”
Red Flag #2, Holy Misogyny Batman
So i make sure he can’t see me rolling my eyes and i pick out some typical popular baby-room colors. Several shades of blue, green, and yellow, all those colors of the light/pastel/cupcakes-and-Easter-baskets persuasion.
I hand him the paint cards, and he looks none too happy with my suggestions. He immediately drops the yellow ones back on the counter saying “Those are Girl Colors." as though it’s some horribly obvious thing and i don’t know what i’m talking about.
I’m perfectly fed up with the guy at this point, and i kindof wave vaguely at the light blue section, and tell him “Well, a lot of colors in this section are very popular for a baby’s room.” and leave him to it while i go talk to other customers and haul paint cans around.
So anyhow, a bit later he comes back up to my desk and says “I picked a color, do you mix it for me?”
and i’m like “Yeah sure, you said you wanted one gallon right?” and i look down at the card in his hand….and wow. That shit is Fucking Navy Blue. You could paint a single statement wall in a Massive Brightly-lit Livingroom that color, and it might STILL be too dark.
"Alllllright…." i say, stalling for time so i can think of a polite way to not-say YOUR WIFE WILL MURDER YOU IF YOU BRING HOME THIS PAINT FOR HER BABY’S ROOM, also it’s non-returnable, so she’ll, like, double-murder you.
"That’s a pretty dark color for an interior space, especially around here, people tend to go for brighter colors." I say, hoping to make him see sense. (it’s near Seattle, the sky is practically a solid sheet of grey clouds from, like, midAugust to March-ish) but he apparently thinks he’s picked the best color, and i can tell that anything i’m gonna say is just going to make him more set in his decision. He has got it into his head that i’m just a silly little girl who likes girly colors, and therefor just an annoyance when he’s trying to get his paint and get home.
"Alright, well, i’ll get started on this, it’ll take maybe ten minutes, but…" i add, in a last-ditch effort, "The paint is non-returnable once i mix it and you pay for it!" There are signs all over the place saying this, but i feel it’s necessary, in this instance, to just, throw that out there. This doesn’t seem to phase him, so i go about mixing this paint, and once it’s done, off he goes.Most likely to meet his doom. The jerkface.
THE VERY NEXT DAY
I’m working with a co-worker, and we’ve just finished the afternoon rush, and here comes a lady. Before she even opens her mouth you can tell, she is Pissed. The anger fucking, rolls off her, in like, heatwaves, it’s impressive. She looks like she could spit lightning, and has been for the past half hour. She’s doing a commendable job of keeping a lid on it as she explains to my co-worker that her husband came in last night and bought this paint that’s way too dark and she knows they can’t return it but could you maybe lighten it up a little?
and i’m hearing this from the other side of the pit, and i’m like OH, THAT ONE. And for the first time i notice, beyond her fucking Glowing Rage, THERE’S THE GUY, the blue paint guy, standing meekly behind her. Guy looks like he’s been Ripped A New One, Several New Ones, while trapped in a car with this girl, who was probly spitting daggers at him the entire way to the store.
My co-worker tells her that unfortunately this paint is too dark, and any lighter color we try to add will just get eaten up. While the wife gives her husband death-glares and is struggling to keep a lid on her Seething Rage, i’m on the other side of the pit, mixing someone else’s paint, and trying to keep a lid on my snorting laughter.
AND THAT, friends and followers, is the story of the Blue Paint Guy.