Jackwagon

Maaaannnn, do I feel like a Jackwagon sometimes. This happens to me EVERY stinkin' time I try to do anything for the farm....

So, yesterday hubs tells me that he needs me to go to Nortana (read: scary place where I buy the dog food) to get bailing twine for the baler. It needs to be biodegradable and he needs 24 rolls of it.

Today during a lunch meeting I get a text from hubs: "Don't forget to stop at Nortana and get the twine." Not a hello sweetheart, I love you, have a good day. Don't forget the bailing twine. After my meeting I head to Nortana and into the office. The girl behind the counter says, "Hackley, right?" I'm thinking, "Ummmmm yes. How the hell do you do that? It's like magic! I've never seen you before and you know my name!" But I'm sure the look on my face was just big, dumb and blank. I say, "Yeah, I'm here for some twine. Did FIL call in what he wanted?" No, apparently she just knows who I am and I SWEAR I've never seen this girl in my life. Our town is small, but not THAT small.

I say, "I need 24 rolls of biodegradable twine for a baler." This folks, is where I think I'm awesome, and immediately get knocked off of my pedestal. She says, "9,000 or 16,000? What color is it? So you need 12 bundles?" I'm like, uuuuuhhhhhhh.....uuuuuuuuhhhhhh. Some guy sitting there comes to my rescue and asks if it's for a round or square baler. Round. Ok, newer or older? Newer. Do you know the number on it? Nope, just know that it's a John Deere. The girl looks at our previous purchases of twine. We've bought both. The guy says I should probably get 16,000. So that's what I buy. They tell me I can take it back if it's the wrong kind.

We go out to my truck, they start loading the twine. It looks like the right stuff. The guy says he uses 20,000. I'm like, "What do the numbers even MEAN? I don't understand!" He says, simply, "That's how many feet are in each roll."

WELL DUH! If you would have told me that in the beginning I would have told you the higher the number the better!

Folks, this happens ALL. THE. TIME. I go into these farm stores, thinking I know EXACTLY what it is I need to buy. I go in there all confident in my cute outfits and big earrings, trying to talk the talk. Then I immediately feel stupid when they start asking me 1,000 questions, none of which I know the answers to. Then they usually have to call in for reinforcements to see if their coworkers can make sense of what I'm saying. It's like I speak another language. I DO PEOPLE. IT'S CALLED ENGLISH! Not FARMER TALK!

I think my solution is this: Whenever they need me to pick up something, they are going to have to call in their order. All I have to do is go pick it up. This will save me LOTS of uuuhhhhhs, and uummmmmm's. Ugh, wish me luck.