The Guns of Nozzlerone!

Yesterday, as I was leaving the rescue ranch, I noticed an older compact car, parked by the feed barn, and someone was talking to John, so I drove up to see who it was. It turned out being our good friend and volunteer, Carol V.!

“Hi Carol,” I said. “Did you get a new-old car?”

“Yes,” Carol answered. “I love it! It’s a 1992 Toyota Corolla and it gets thirty miles to the gallon! And, I decided to take your Feng Shui advice, about bonding with it, so I named it Ruby—Ruby Red. We’re buds!”

“I’m jealous,” John said. “Carol got a great deal on it, too.”

“I’m jealous, too,” I said. “Congratulations, Carol. I like what you named her. It’s good.”

“Guess where I’m going on vacation?” Carol said, wearing a grin.

“Kerrville?” I said. “Fredericksburg?”

“Costa Rica!” Carol said. “My friend, Lori and I are going in a few weeks—to hike, scuba, etc.! I’ve never been there.”

“Where in Costa Rica?” I asked, even though, I knew very little about that country.

Carol laughed. “I don’t know,” She said. “I really don’t know the name of the place, but I do know the city has a smoking volcano, and our hotel is real close to it, and we will have a great view of it—and it’s really, really cheap.” She and I both started laughing.

“I’m sure it is. I’ll bet the rooms have lava lamps, too.” I said. “Shoot, they ought to pay you to stay in a room with a view—of a smoking volcano?” I started laughing, again. “Carol, you’re brave. I wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink, in a room near an active smoldering volcano—heck, I’m even scared to go out and take a nap in Outer Space.”

“I’ll send you an e-mail of the place,” Carol said. “You will love it.”

“Great,” I said. “I’m sure that y’all will have a blast—literally! Be sure to bring me back a lava lamp.” Carol laughed and then she took off laughing, as she went to go walk some dogs.

This morning, when I was fixing to go to Kerrville with Maribeth, Tony asked me to please go by Home Depot, to pick up a replacement nozzle, for his Troybilt pressure washer. I told him that I would be glad to do it for him. Boy, was I ever wrong about that.

When I was ready to take off for Kerrville, Tony walked me to Buttermilk, opened the door for me to get inside, and then he handed me the broken old nozzle, so I could take it inside the store, to make sure that I matched it up—and looking at it—made me sick. “Tony,” I said. “I can’t walk into Home Depot with this thing!”

“Why?”

“It looks like a gun! And, it says right here on the nozzle, ‘Warning! Never point this at anyone!”

“Nance,” Tony said. “It doesn’t have a trigger—it broke off. And, it means never point it—when it is shooting water out of it. I need to replace it. Please go to Home Depot. We need it, so we can pressure wash the dog houses, before Daniel paints them. Please?”

“Okay, I’ll do it, but I am not real happy about doing this,” I said. “And Tony, if I get arrested—we’re talking divorce and you had better bail me out of jail—fast. I’ve never been in jail.” As I drove away, I watched in Buttermilk’s rearview mirror—Tony, Daniel and Aaron laughing.

When I arrived at the Lodge to pick up Maribeth, she was standing at the gate and was ready to go, but she made the mistake of asking me what was wrong. So, on the entire twenty two mile trip—I whined about not wanting to go to Home Depot or jail.

When we arrived at Home Depot I opened the back door and carefully picked up the weapon. “Maribeth,” I said. “I can’t walk into Home Depot with this—it looks like a gun.”

“Put it inside your canvas grocery bag,” Maribeth suggested.

“I can’t—I could get charged for carrying a concealed weapon—and hiding it in my HEB grocery bag. I really don’t want to do this.”

“Come on Nancy,” Maribeth ordered. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

I decided to carry it by its nozzle, so no one would think I was going to fire it. As we walked towards the entrance, I noticed several people watching us. “Maribeth, walk close to me,” I said. “So, people won’t think that two overweight, white haired, senior citizen women, would go into Home Depot carrying a gun.”

“Do you want a basket?” Maribeth asked. “I’m getting one.”

“Yes, please,” I said. Maribeth shoved a basket towards me. “I can lay it right here in the basket. I’m going straight to the first employee that I see and ask them to please help me find the replacement part. Wish me luck.”

When the second set of sliding doors opened for me to enter the store, I walked in pushing the basket, and nothing happened! No sirens, no cops—absolutely nothing! But when a senior citizen, male, employee approached me—I froze in my steps, as Maribeth pushed her cart past me and smiling from ear to ear.

“Welcome to Home Depot. Can I help you find something?”

“Yes,” I gasped, nervously. “My husband asked me to bring in this broken, triggerless Troybilt nozzle, so I could get a replacement for it. I didn’t want to do it. Honest.”

The gentleman smiled, raised his eyebrows and then looked down into my basket and said, “Follow me, please.”

I followed him, as Maribeth rolled past me, again—wearing a grin.

“We don’t carry Troybilt,” He said, as he reached down and picked up the black nozzle from inside my basket. “This is a different brand, but I am sure that it will work. See? They are the same size with the same fittings.” He then handed me the new water gun— with a trigger. “Just as a reminder, Ma’am—don’t ever point this thing at a person.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Then I immediately went to the checkout counter, and got out of there as fast as I could. I was so relieved! While waiting outside the store, for Maribeth, I phoned Tony, but got the answering machine instead. “Tony, it’s Nancy. I went to Home Depot and I’m in jail. Not really, I have your new water pistol. You’re off the hook. Love you, Nancy.”

P.S. Kinky just called from Port Aransas and he is looking forward to tonight's show!