My kitchen, which I am actually starting to use as more than a room to store wine and cottage cheese, is dark. I’ve been ignoring how dark it is by turning on the light above the stove and the one above the sink every time I go in there, for, I don’t know, THREE MONTHS NOW!
I decided on Sunday I would break down and buy light bulbs. Only problem was, they are the long skinny florescent ones. Waaaay more complicated than the regular (cork screw CFL) bulbs I buy for lamps.
So I did what any girl would do. I called for reinforcement from my BFF Karina the Russian.
We decided the “smart” thing to do would be to have the measurements with us, but since neither of us had a pen and paper handy–and by handy I mean in our hands at that very moment–I grabbed my POS phone and snapped this lovely pic.
I don't know why there are lines. I do know that I freaking miss my freaking iPhone!
We left the house in search of the land of orange, also known as Home Depot, where we quickly spotted the isle with light bulbs that look like they belong in a Star Wars movie. We stood there staring blankly at the bulbs until a helpful orange-caped superhero walked up, ready to save us.
Little did he know, we came prepared. I whipped out my phone and, careful not to show him the kissyface photo I sent to ED earlier in the day, showed him exactly what we needed.
He tried really hard not to laugh at us.
Then he asked us if we knew what the length was.
“Length? You mean that wasn’t in the picture?” I asked, completely dumbfounded. Apparently our plan was not so fool proof after all. “Umm… about this long?” I say, now holding out my hands to motion what I later found out was two feet and no, not in the picture.
Feeling slightly retarded, we got our receipt and left our minimum wage superhero with a smirk of amusement from the two bimbos trying to buy a light bulb. Karina looked at me and said, “you know, either this would be the greatest phone commercial ever or the greatest blond joke ever.”
I tell her, “I know! Right? How many blonds does it take to buy a light bulb? Only I’m not blond…”
“Now watch, we will get home and it will be the wrong size!”
And, of course…
We get home, stand on our tippie toes, unscrew the old bulbs (what? We are both super tall. We don’t need no stinkin stools!) and replace them with the new ones.
And… they don’t work.
They were the right size, but for some ridiculous reason that has eluded me, my kitchen is still freaking dark!
So how many blonds does it take to change Summer’s light bulbs? You fill in the blank.
K to the R stories, Nerdom, Story Time