So I just went to my local hardware store, told the guy I needed thinners and sandpaper, also told him I was in a very bad mood and then pretty much told him my whole life story.
Hardware stores are fantastic like that. They do so much more than just sell paint and appliances. The men, they’re always men, listen at the same time as finding the right screws. They never offer judgement, or advice, they just take things off the shelves while you sob and rant and rave, then they offer a ten percent discount and off you go.
A bit like going to the hairdresser except you’re always happy with the outcome.
‘You don’t mind me ranting like this, do you?’, I asked Tom.
Tom’s been working at the shop forever.
He raised his eyebrow at the question.
‘I’ve been listening to you now for twenty years, Violet. I’ve never minded before. I’m not going to start now.’
I realised it has been twenty years.
‘Has he called you yet?’ Tom asked.
It was the first time Tom had ever asked me a question. I realised he was talking about the difficult guy. I must have ranted and raved about him last week.
I looked at Tom. He remembers everything.
‘Nope. Bit of a fucker hey.’
‘I didn’t want to say that myself,’ Tom replied.
And he smiled.
Tom has the most gorgeous smile.
Why have I never noticed this before?