Dear Home Depot:

I am loath to use the expression “Suck my dick.” I believe the expression is anti-feminist and anti-sex. I am pro-feminism, and pro-sex. However, there is no better way to say it: the Seven Corners, Virginia Home Depot sucks my dick.

Like many Americans who helped you post over $90 billion in net sales last quarter, I followed the once less-than-totally absurd advice that “one cannot lose money in real estate” and purchased a home. While renovating, I purchased a Hampton Bay Brushed Nickel 5-Blade Sidewinder Fan from your company in January 2008. This fan arrived with a broken light fixture (see above). I visited the Seven Corners Home Depot yesterday to address this problem. After 15 minutes with three different orange-aproned customer service representatives, I was referred to a fourth representative who, allegedly, could help me. After 15 minutes of contemplation, this fourth representative wondered whether my problem could be solved at all and referred me to a manager. Fifteen minutes later, the manager had the representative call Home Depot Direct. Though he was unable to explain my problem to Home Depot Direct, he did put me on the phone with them before walking away. I explained the problem to the operator at Home Depot Direct, who put me on hold for 15 minutes. Thus, I found myself in an unusual situation: I stood in Home Depot, abandoned by one customer service representative, and yet was on the phone with Home Depot, on hold with another.

After 15 minutes on hold, I learned that my replacement part could be secured at your Alexandria location, a mere hour-and-a-half from the District in rush-hour traffic. Fifteen minutes later, a manager informed me that, after all, the part might not be available, but that I could call him to follow-up, though he might not be available. On my way out 15 minutes after that—-after almost two hours at Home Depot—-I tried to purchase a power strip. This item, which cost less than $5, was not marked with a SKU number, and I waited 10 minutes for a price-check.

I write not to condemn the staff of Seven Corners Home Depot. Though they failed to help me, I believe that, in their way, they tried. Rather, I write to address the general malaise of the Home Depot Corporation. Your company, along with subprime mortgage lenders and design-oriented cable channels, has profited from the absurd market conditions that fueled our nation’s housing crisis. Though you have now fallen on hard times, we—-your loyal, equity-hemorrhaging customers—-are still here! Must we also hemorrhage time playing the now-inordinately unprofitable game of home renovation?

I am the freelance writer of singular prose that is definitely not journalism and not quite observational humour. My craft commands little recompense on the open market and, unlike developers and real estate agents between 2000 and 2005, I do not pay much of an opportunity cost whiling my time away in a Home Depot. I admit that my time is worth little. The corporate publisher of an unnamed free weekly implies as much by its persistent refusal to pay me $700 I am owed for work completed in 2007. However, if forced to while away time, I prefer a dentist appointment or the dog-eat-dog environment of a $10-$20 Texas Hold ‘Em game to your customer service desk.

In closing, I will express gratitude that Seven Corners Home Depot does, at least, “suck my dick” and, if I may speak for them, the dicks of the many homeowners that patronize it. Dick-sucking implies pleasure. Those of us who jumped into the real estate market in the past year are more accustomed to “getting fucked.”

Sincerely,

Justin Moyer President/CEO of the WeBlog Iceland