Hell Depot

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I must be a glutton for abuse to go to Home Depot as often as I do. Not just a masochist, but a downright idiot. I should know by now that the store, for all its showy stock, never has what I want, let alone what I need. Thinking that I knew exactly what I wanted and seen at the 23rd Street store, I mistakenly assumed that the same stuff would be at the Brooklyn store. So with the support of my good friends, I naively set out to buy a sink, tiles, and paint, in one quick fell swoop. Wrong.

First, the sink. I had seen the Elkay sink on display for $279 at the store, but on line, could only find the more expensive models even thought the dimensions were the same. The difference is the gauge. The lower the number the heftier the sink. As one friend put it, in regards to the Elkay, “That’s the sink you put in a rental.” My design friends also didn’t like the more rounded corners of the sink, there must be better. In the Kitchen design section, where there was only one person working on this early Sunday afternoon, there is a catalog of kitchen sinks and fixtures that can be special ordered. We looked, we picked a Moen Lancelot for its more angular corners, we were done. With no one to help us out. I stayed put, patiently waiting for that one person to finish with her customer, a couple who was designing their entire kitchen – flashbacks of the day before at Ikea played out in front of me. Another friend searched far and wide for someone to come over and help. No one could, because it wasn’t their job to special order, only that one person who had been helping the couple for what seemed like an eternity. The only other alternative, we find out after waiting almost an hour, was customer service, which did it in five minutes.

Needless to say, I’m plenty steamed at this point, and I barely have the tolerance to look for the tiles. Again, searching and searching, not to be found. I ask an orange apronned employee, searching and searching for him too, who takes us down the same aisles we’ve just looked through – not in stock, you can special order. No way was I going to go through that again. I ask if the store is particularly underemployed on a, at this point, Sunday evening. He says, “No, it’s like this all the time.” This place sucks.

Picking up the paint was the easy task, but in my fury, I picked up the wrong finish – sateen, not eggshell. The final insult to injury, cherry on top of the dysfunctional sundae, was the check out line. One cashier and a half dozen self-serves that don’t work. I’m never going back again. Except to pick up my sink. Curses.

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2 Responses to “Hell Depot”

  1. Kitchen Design New York Says:

    Tell me about it! I asked for help from one of their employees in looking for a particular sink for my kitchen that I saw in a magazine, and the ad said that Home Depot had it, my friend who works in a kitchen design New York company also said the same thing, and I had to wait for an hour and a half just for the employee to check if they had it in stock. She comes back later with a sheepish look on her face and asks me what I wanted her to look for again. I wanted to burn down the place!

  2. A Return to the Place That Has No Name « The Littlest Kitchen Says:

    […] I ordered my sink and strainer from Hell Depot a few months ago, I didn’t realize at the time that it didn’t come with a basket – that […]

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