Drama at the Home Depot

As some of you may know, I am an in-store service rep for Home Depot; I'm actually an employee of the generic-named Professional Services, Inc. and not Home Depot, which means I get treated like shit by clueless, disinterested airheads in California instead of the brutal, soulless, ruthless corporate vipers at Home Depot headquarters in Atlanta (and, thank sweet merciful god, I don't have to wear an apron). It also means in a past life I must have been the guy who drove the final nail at Christ's crucifixion to deserve such an occupation.

My job is easy, but for the most part life-numbingly boring. There was a recent incident, however, that was a bit exciting.

Last week I was sitting right outside of the store, talking to some of my friends from a different service group, when a very muscle-bound individual walked past us followed by the not-at-all-muscular loss prevention manager. The lp stopped the mountain with a face and told him he saw the guy steal something. The shoplifter gave the merchandise back, there was some squabbling back and forth, then BAM! And no, it wasn't Emeril seasoning the potatoes, it was the loss prevention guy getting hit in the face and dropping like a lead dildo. Luckily the store manager was just coming out of the store so I didn't have to give up my comfy bench seat and pretend to care if the guy was still alive. He was, just a little dazed. The perp ran to his car and took off while we vendors sat there with awe-struck looks on our faces.

It doesn't end there. After I had left for the day, a different behemoth came in the store looking for the loss prevention guy. He was told to wait outside while they tracked him down, and he did just that. He waited in his car with the original assailant while the store manager called the cops, who promptly arrived and arrested the two. It seems they both had a long list of felony convictions and were stealing supplies to make crack pipes. Several pipes and enough crack to give Whitney Houston the bends were found in their car. And this was at my NICE Home Depot, in a decent neighborhood. Well, crooks have cars, and in the suburbs it seems they hire security personnel who can't take a punch. If they weren't so stupid as to sit in a car at the scene of the crime while the cops finished their doughnuts, they would still be free to smoke the rock and sell the remainder to school kids; living a version of the American Dream, I suppose.