Is it just me or have even the most simple of tasks become incredibly complex and frustrating? For instance; I was at the Bass Pro Shop cashing in a gift certificate, actually it was a prize gift certificate that my fishing pardner Arnold and I had won while at a bass fishing tournament last spring. I know, hard to believe that Arnold and I could win anything while we were so busy just trying to stay alive on the lake, but that's another story.
Anyway, I'm checking out the aisles when I see a nifty rain suit with the label Frogg Toggs. Arnold has one and I had admired the quality: water proof, breathable, and light weight. I find my size, check out with my certificate, and drive 25 miles home where I discover that the jacket and pants are of different sizes. I may have put on a few pounds but XXL is way, way, TOO big.
Next day I grumpily drive 25 miles back for the exchange. I find the same color on the rack, a snazzy sky blue, and head for the returns counter, making absolutely sure I have matching sizes. I notice a scowl on the clerk's face. "These are different prices," she says. "This one is ten dollars cheaper than the original suit you bought."
I"m as puzzled as she is, then it hit's me. "Let me take a look." Aha, it's the same brand, same color jacket and pants, but the pants are not of the bib variety. To me, bibs on rain paints are essential. If you've ever been in a driving rain storm, on the lake, with Arnold, and you bend over to keep the rain from hitting you in the face, you will find that without the bib, the water runs off your back and down the crack of your... well, let's say pants.
Another trip down the aisle. See, what I mean? Complications. Nothing's easy anymore. And to top it all off, no sky blue in my size with a bib. But I did find a brown one and that's okay, maybe even better. This one matches my eyes.
Anyway, I'm checking out the aisles when I see a nifty rain suit with the label Frogg Toggs. Arnold has one and I had admired the quality: water proof, breathable, and light weight. I find my size, check out with my certificate, and drive 25 miles home where I discover that the jacket and pants are of different sizes. I may have put on a few pounds but XXL is way, way, TOO big.
Next day I grumpily drive 25 miles back for the exchange. I find the same color on the rack, a snazzy sky blue, and head for the returns counter, making absolutely sure I have matching sizes. I notice a scowl on the clerk's face. "These are different prices," she says. "This one is ten dollars cheaper than the original suit you bought."
I"m as puzzled as she is, then it hit's me. "Let me take a look." Aha, it's the same brand, same color jacket and pants, but the pants are not of the bib variety. To me, bibs on rain paints are essential. If you've ever been in a driving rain storm, on the lake, with Arnold, and you bend over to keep the rain from hitting you in the face, you will find that without the bib, the water runs off your back and down the crack of your... well, let's say pants.
Another trip down the aisle. See, what I mean? Complications. Nothing's easy anymore. And to top it all off, no sky blue in my size with a bib. But I did find a brown one and that's okay, maybe even better. This one matches my eyes.
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