Eff You, Lowes

This weekend, I had a bad case of the Catholic Guilts. These things hit me once in a while and, for long stretches of time, I sit around depressed over shit that is completely out of my control and doesn't affect me in one way or the other. For no good reason at all, I'll get all upset over the thought of people starving or not having air conditioning or being eaten by crocodiles or any of a thousand other sundry afflictions that can befall humanity. Specifically, that can befall humanity that isn't me.

I learned that, when I'm suffering from a case of the Catholic Guilts, watching Cars is akin to Superman being jabbed in the thigh by a big hunk of kryptonite. What? Lightning McQueen stopped the race and pushed The King over the finish line so that he wouldn't suffer the indignity of crashing on the final lap of his final race? Characters can be developed? People can learn lessons? Cue the water works. Not that I cried or any unmanly shit like that. No. Moistened...maybe. Tears? Not that I'll admit.

It's just a damned good thing I didn't watch Hoosiers is all I'm saying.

But then...I watched Cars twice this weekend. I'm fucking stupid. Then I tossed in The Incredibles, as well, just for good measure. What? Suburban husband and father longs for the good old days when he didn't have a gut and could smash things into atoms? This causing tension at home? Family recovers and fights evil together? Craig T. Nelson still has a job? Moisten me up again, Cowboy.

Granted, it's no Jimmy Fucking Chitwood hitting the final shot.

Fuck you, South Bend Central!

Apparently, the cure for a case of the Catholic Guilts is a trip to Lowes.

A couple of months ago, I replaced all the faucets in the two bathrooms upstairs: the one I share with my wife and the one that the kids use. Well, the stems coming out of the walls are 30 years old, and so even though I put on new faucet handles and everything, they dripped. Worse, I bought these lovely brushed nickel faucets, but they were made by a company called Danco. They were supposed to be one-size fits all sort of deal, which I thought was great. I won't have to worry about dicking with the stems. Unfortunately, the options for the one-size-fits-all are a nylon cube with a whole cut in it to fit down on top of the stem or an aluminum block that you can tighten down onto the stem using iron screws and an Allen wrench.

The metallurgists out there probably already see the problem here. Alternatively, if you've paid any attention to the various stages of human civilization, you would know that iron is a lot harder than brass or copper or whatever it is that they use to manufacture the stems. Therefore, when you're turning the water on and off, you tend to shred the tiny teeth in the stem that provide the grip for turning it on and off. It's the part at the top of the picture to the right.

So, with the head thoroughly shredded, and the butt end leaking badly (pray that I never have to write those words again), I went off to Lowes, the home improvement supply store, in order to get my fix. Armed with the faucet handle I'm trying to attach to my plumbing, I make a beeline for the plumbing department to seek the parts I would need, because I've decided to forgo Danco's lousy design (had I simply plopped the aluminum box back on the stem, I would be replacing them again in another month) and essentially craft my own faucet. Instead of using their one-size-fits-all bullshit, I decided to get a shorter stem and attach it directly to the faucet. However, this is where I ran afoul because I asked the attendant in the plumbing section for help.

Asking for help at Lowes is like asking the Pope how best to pleasure your girlfriend: you're not going to get the answer you want.

Spying pretty much exactly what I needed, I asked my friendly neighborhood plumbing assistant how I could tell if the head on the stem was a size H (which fit the back of my faucet handle) and he said he didn't know. They he asked if I had a Price Pfister. I said, no, it's a Danco. He then informed me that I was looking at Price Pfister stems. I said, that's fine, all I really want is something that will fit the handle so I can use it. He then said that Danco doesn't have that type of back, despite the fact that I held it up for him and showed him exactly what I needed and then told him what I wanted to do! Finally, after I had slaughtered untold number of neurons by conversing with this feeb, I went home, growled at my wife, got my kids ready, and went to a birthday party.

I should also add that birthday cake with a cream layer between the layers of cake, lots of ice cream and MILFs aplenty also help to ease a case of the Catholic Guilts.

So, Sunday, I go back to Lowes, where I eschew their "advice" and "assistance." I decided that, the best way to find what I needed, was to fit the stems onto the faucet handle before purchasing them. So, I poked holes in the tops of the plastic packaging holding the pieces I thought I needed and discovered, within about five seconds, how to check and see if stem head was a size H or not (it's in the first set of letters, in case any dumbfuck from the plumbing department reads this; for example, a 12H-H/C, is a size twelve, H-head stem that can be used for a hot or a cold valve...brilliant, no?). I found ones that looked reasonably like the stems I had at home, purchased them and took them home.

However, the threads didn't sit far enough back be set into my pipes, so had to repackage the one I had opened and take them back to Lowes. Frustrated, this time I went looking harder for exactly what I needed. And, I found it. I found exactly what I needed in the convenient catalogue that they placed there, presumably for the customer. Once having a near match for the old stems, I called for assistance. Figuring I was armed, knowledgeable and prepared, this should be an easy sale.

"Can I help you?" the man asked as he came to answer the assistance call.

"Yes, I'd like this one right here that's shown in the catalogue. Do you stock them?" I was rather proud of myself.

The guy looks around, fumbling through the various stems hanging there. "I think this is it." It wasn't, but it was a reasonable facsimilie. So reasonable that I had purchased four of them a few hours earlier and had to return them.

"Well, it is a size H. It's a 12, but I need something with threads further back. Also, do you have it in a 10? That would suit my needs better."

"I don't think so."

"Okay, well, see, here's some threading on my stem. Do you know what that's for?"

"Uh, no." (Turns out the threading wasn't necessary for installation.)

"I see. Well, this piece here, the one that looks exactly like it, the one in your catalogue placed here for my convenience...do you carry that piece?"

"I can check."

He wanders off. Five minutes later, he comes back.

"We don't really carry that one. And we don't order parts in for people. You'll have to go to a plumbing supplier."

I hesitated for a second. I wanted to ask him if this was or was not a "plumbing supply store", as I was standing in the plumbing section. I then wanted to ask him why the fuck they had a catalogue there for the customer's convenience if they wouldn't be so helpful as to order in the parts that were requested or needed.

"Very well then," I said, with as much aplomb as I could muster, "thank you for your time."

As we are walking out past the customer service desk, my daughter, a bit frantic over the idea of not being able to shower, asked, "What are we going to do now, daddy?"

"The only thing we can do, honey," I said, projecting my voice for all to hear in a rather stage-worthy performance, "We're going to Home Depot, where maybe they have someone who actually knows what they're talking about." I then left the store.

To cut this rather unwieldy tale short...I went to Home Depot. Five minutes later, I left with exactly what I wanted. An hour later, I had replaced three of the four offending stems. As it was getting late and the kids were looking to me for sustenance, I felt I should cook some dinner and not wrestle with the fourth stem which is stuck in the wall, most likely covered in 30 years worth of crud, corrosion and blech. Once I get it unstuck, I'll switch it out and all will be well. I smell WD-40 in the future.

Oh, and I bought the Price Pfister fittings. There, on the package, emblazoned in solid black letters against the Carolina blue background, it says "Perfect fit for Danco products." Lowes plumbing assistants: incompetent AND illiterate.