Hobby Lobby is definitely not my favorite place. In fact, it makes me almost as unhappy as Wal Mart. Not quite, but almost. To be perfectly honest, a high degree of stress, and yes, even anger is usually involved before I get through the checkout line. I’m really not proud of that, but it seems inevitable and is what I’ve come to expect. I do visit the store often, though, and am working hard to adopt the carefree mental state of those artsy crafty people who frequent the Lobby. I appreciate the principles that the founder espouses and applaud the Sunday time off he ensures for his employees. That is, until the Sunday I’m inspired to resin coat a few four-leaf clovers, only to be reminded that the necessary resin is perfectly unavailable behind the store’s locked doors. It’s usually the same Sunday I’m craving Chick Fil A nuggets.
My frequent visits to the crafting mecca this Christmas season have led me to conclude that truly creative people must possess a high level of patience that I wish I could conjure up. I just don’t see on their faces the same angst I feel at watching the checkout clerk peruse the store flyer to ascertain whether an item is on sale before she carefully and methodically wraps every single breakable piece in several layers of protective packaging, with each corner creased and bent at precise angles. In slow motion. And invariably, the person ahead of me in line is purchasing more than a few possibly breakable treasures. That, or they’re returning something without a receipt, prompting the checkout person to call for a runner to do a price check. At that point, I begin the hopeless visual scan for a faster horse of a checkout line, and so the game begins. What Hobby Lobby has against bar code scanners, I just don’t understand.
And as my mood darkens, with little else to occupy the time spent waiting for the price check runner to return, I scan the rack of inspirational and self-help books conveniently positioned by the checkout. There’s plenty of time to read the cover of each, and so I do. The Power of I Am by Joel Osteen promises that those two little words will change your life. But I know precisely where I am and it’s apparently going nowhere. Just like Hotel California, you can apparently check in but you can never leave. I know this.
If you need batteries or tweezers or Scripture mints or refrigerator magnets, Hobby Lobby checkout line is the place to be.
This year, I determined to decorate the farmhouse in the style touted by the Farmhouse Christmas magazine I picked up in the grocery store checkout line. Checkouts are truly a racket. I know this, too. The adorable design involved a large vertically-positioned “JOY” by the front door. The letters J and Y were large metal letters, with the O in the middle comprised of a bow-festooned wreath. Off to Hobby Lobby I sprinted to find the expected cache of large metal letters. Of course, I located a J but no Y. Really? They carry a large metal ampersand but no Y? And they have an X in stock. For the life of me, I can think of no word I’d want to spell that includes an X, which is probably why the X was still available. I briefly considered spelling Ho Ho with two H’s and two wreaths but decided that the design would be too busy. Artist that I am.
Surely I can find a Y at another Hobby Lobby so I stood in line to buy my J.
That turned out to be a mistake. There had apparently been a run on Y’s, as I couldn’t find a single large metal Y at any store in North Alabama. And I think I visited them all. I briefly considered calling it quits and just spelling Jo instead of Joy but decided that would be weird. If only I’d gone with Ho Ho or Noel, but it’s too late now.
I’m actually looking forward to returning the big metal J at a more convenient time, although I’m quite sure there is no convenient time at Hobby Lobby. And since the store is full of patient people with oodles of time to visit and craft, I’m sure they won’t mind waiting in line as the price check runner locates the price of the item for which I have no receipt. That’s the way the game is played. I’m learning the rules.
I’m also learning that crafters are not only patient, they’re flush with free time and they don’t watch football. Living in an SEC state from which champions usually emerge, I know that the best time to shop or dine out is during a Saturday afternoon televised football game. Although that is definitely the time to browse the desolate aisles of Target, not so for any store frequented by artsy people. My fellow crafters and I are happily oblivious to goings on at Bryant-Denny. We have far more important projects to occupy ourselves with, as I was disappointed to learn in yet another long checkout line one hopeful fall Saturday afternoon.
As I waited, I read every single quote plastered on the wall above the EXIT door. The quotes were artfully arranged on planks of barn wood or lettered in fancy script and framed. “New Day, New Start,” “Blessed,” “Do What You Love,” and my favorite “Today is the Day You Never Want to Forget,” reminded me that no matter the frustrations of slow people with full carts ahead of you, or the inevitability of a blocked aisle as people chat or browse the shelves, it’s OK to slow the pace and give others a break.
“Just Breathe,” I’m advised by the framed quote at the far right.
And so I do.
