An Open Letter to the Dudes in the House

An Open Letter to the Dudes in the House

Dear Fellas:

What is the deal with the hitting on me when I'm at my worst thing? I can be a sweaty, dirty, unwashed mess in a sloppy t-shirt and baggy yoga pants and you pick this time to flirt with me? I run to the Home Depot in the middle of a home improvement project or I schlep into PetSmart covered in dog fur to get Snuggles' nails ground down and apparently my ungroomed appearance translates to "Please check me out." I just don't get it. Why not when I'm all dolled up in a dress and red lipstick and all that crap? I have polled some male friends to figure out this phenomenon and I still don't understand. Don't get me wrong. It's flattering and all but it's just that..., seriously what the crap?

Please. Enlighten me.

Thanks,

Heather

cc: All mah grrrrrrrrls in the house... does this happen to you, too???

An Open Letter to Home Depot

Dear Home Depot,

I am really beginning to hate you. First, you NEVER have what I need. Ever. Although you are the biggest hardware store in the world, you have squat. Secondly, your help blows. Your "experts" are more often than not a bunch of idiots. I took a PAMPHLET with me for a valve for a sprinkler system, with the part number circled and showed your "expert" what I needed, for Pete's sake. He gave me something that was NOT what I needed. When I said that it was wrong, he treated me like an ignorant female, and evidently one who couldnt read. So, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, after all he was the "expert". Guess what Home Depot? It was the wrong part. I do hope that you enjoyed my husband's little visit to your establishment, with wrong part and pamphlet in hand, and a lack of being amused. Supposedly the "expert" had left for the day, but I know the truth. He was hiding behind the conduit display. A moron AND a coward. Way to go Home Depot, way to go.

Signed,

Obladi Oblada