Forgive me, Readership, for I have sinned. It has been … well, let’s just say I’ve never confessed my sins before as I’ve always felt I was an honest man, but my integrity has now been compromised.

It all began at the local home improvement megastore. I decided to check out a new location that is equidistant from my usual haunt. I needed lumber, sand, rocks and some miscellaneous stuff. Since plywood is a pain to walk around with, I decided to get that last.

So after loading up my cart with a few hundred pounds of rocks and mulch from the garden section, and getting my nails and other odds and ends, I head over to the other side for the plywood. But a sign said, “Do not enter with unpaid merchandise.” So I stopped off at the nearest cash register to ask what’s up. [Frustration Limit: +1]

“Well, you either pick it up first and lug it through the store, or you buy it here first and then drive in and pick it up,” she said.

“Alright, I’ll buy it here. I need the cheapest sheet of plywood you have.” After 15 minutes of her struggling with her POS (yes both definitions of that acronym are applicable) we guessed at a possible solution. Guessed, because you have to hit a few dozen keys and on-screen buttons in order to view a single sheet of plywood, so after going through this process four times, I just chose one. [Frustration Limit: +3]

Now, I would like the cheapest 2x4 stud you have. A similar experience occurred and raised my frustration another few more points.

Everything is paid for, and I load my 1/2 ton of stuff into my truck and drive into the one-way lumber loading zone. It was then that I realized that I forgot to purchase bags of sand. I asked the person, and he said, load it up and go in and pay for it. Since my frustration limit was approaching my boiling point, I did that.

You all know how frustrating it is to maneuver your shopping cart through a crowded store. Now enlarge that to the size of your truck and now make it your actual truck that could get damaged, and you can see the stress building. Ok, load up the 2x4’s since you want to put them on the bottom under the plywood, and now realize that you passed the plywood a few hundred feet back. [Frustration Limit: +2]

I’m loaded, and I’m now waiting for someone to approve my load and my receipt and after waiting for 15 minutes, I’m finally done, and I start to drive home. I hit the highway and start to decompress and realize that I forgot to pay for the fing sand!

I then decide that my sanity is worth more than my integrity, so I keep driving.

I get a phone call. “Hi honey, can you stop by the store and pick up some food for dinner…” My favorite neighborhood grocery store is too far to go too, so I stop by the local mega-store complex and start hunting. I notice the drink isle, and giving my current state of mine, I can’t pass that up, so I grab a six pack and continue.

Now even more than the aisle and aisle you have to wade through in order to get that can of tuna, I hate this new, more efficient form of cashier… me. These stores have decided to fire all but one of their cashiers and make you the customer, do the work.

Granted, I would like to think that I am more than qualified to be a cashier, but trying to figure out those POS systems can make your mind bleed. Scan the six-pack. Beep! Error, please re-scan. Scan again. Beep! Eventually, it accepts. Please enter quantity. Ah… one. Please, scan next item. [Frustration Limit: +10]

It wasn’t until I got into my car and thought the price was a bit low that I realize that it wasn’t one six-pack that I scanned, it was one bottle! Ugh! Once again, I choose my sanity over my integrity and drive home.

So that, humble Readership, is how I compromised my integrity for 5 bottles and 4 sand bags.