Whacked

I needed a new line cartridge for the weed-whacker, a light bulb for my office light, and a replacement light bulb for the living room track lighting, so I asked Mark to take me to Home Depot.
"Do we need batteries?" Mark asked.
"Batteries?"
Goddamnit, I had forgotten the hurricane. I had been trying to ignore it, which is my usual preparation for a storm. Waiting until the day before the storm hits has become my routine because of how many times the news people here in Florida have lied to me. They cut into television shows days before anything might happen, and panic the populace into storming the Home Depot and the super markets.
"Okay batteries, but I have to stop at the Publix first and cash in my rolls of quarters."
So while I am at the service counter of the Publix, Mark has decided to do some grocery shopping. He has joined the panicked masses, grabbing cases of canned tuna, and bottled water. I cash in my quarters, and find Mark near the back of the store.
"Why are you getting all that water?"
"Hurricanes a commin. Need water."
"No, we have two cases of water from last year along with the three gallon water cooler in the bedroom."
"Hurricanes a commin. Need water, need tuna." His eyes have glazed over.
We buy the water and tuna, and then stop at the CVS so Mark can score twelve rolls of toilet paper at half price. I certainly can't fault him for that, but it kind of bugs me.

Finally, I am at the Home Depot. After fifteen minutes of searching through all the weed-whacker replacement cartridges, I lose it.
"Goddamnit, where the hell are the damn Troy Bilt parts?" I scream to no one in particular.
Suddenly a Home Depot representative pops up next to me.
"We don't sell Troy Bilt sir. That's Lowes."
"Fine, you didn't have the light bulbs I needed either." I say in a huff, and storm out of the place. So it was on to Lowes. Again I am confronted with a wall full of different weed-whacker line cartridges because the damn manufacturers cannot settle on a single standard. I start cursing, and let all within earshot know that I am unhappy. "Goddamnit, where the hell are the damn Troy Bilt parts?"

It turns out that Lowes has discontinued the electric weed-whackers, and all the parts for them. So after four stores, and two hours, I have returned home without the three things I went out for. But I do have enough bottled water to fill a bathtub, and enough canned tuna to keep the cats happy for a year, and some really cheap toilet paper. Oh, and we never did get any batteries.