I'm trying to find a paint swatch and hear a voice behind me yelling, "So you into sailing?"
No one answers. Someone must be on the phone, I think.
NOPE. The guy working the paint counter suddenly appears beside me like a magician and repeats, "So you into sailing?" I give him a blank stare (not the ice breaker I'm accustomed to, after all), and he clarifies: "Your tattoo!"
"Oh." I hate when people ask about tattoos; it's personal. Plus, let's face it, I feel like a total dork saying, "IT'S MY 'FRIEND SHIP'. MY BFF HAS ONE TOO." So I ramble about how I randomly got it (false) and why regret tattoos because they're already on you forever? So just deal...blah blah, ramble ramble.
Anyway, I'm already fed up by the time I tell them I need a high-gloss paint in red delicious. See, I had a huge chipped area around the doorknob that needed touching up.
"We don't do samples in gloss," he says.
"Ugh, seriously? What's the cheapest I can get that's not a sample?"
"A quart."
Okay, no. So I get the flat paint in the 3-dollar sample size. At least it's the same color.
When I go home and slap the paint on the door, I'm in for a treat. It looks NOTHING like the other paint:
I gasp. Shit! I can't stop! I was too confident and heaped too much paint on. I have to at least attempt an even application of this wrong color, or else I'd have three colors going on. I dart my head left and right to make sure Hairy won't round the corner and witness this monstrosity.
(The natural next step? Posting this to SnapChat.)
Thankfully, after 30 minutes or so, the paint dried and looked MUCH better:
This should've taught me to be a little more careful: do more test runs, have a sense of propriety (using gloss paint with gloss paint, no ifs, ands, or buts, etc). In fact, it just made me cockier. All's well that ends well, right? #winning
No comments:
Post a Comment