Sunday, February 12, 2006


I'm just back from Dick's Sporting Goods at the local shopping mall where I was attempting to exchange one dartboard for another (dang, this makes it sound like I've been en route for days, since my last blog entry even). Why the exchange? We'd been stringing along on half-commitments, shamelessly doling out one-of-these-dayses to Ph. as a way to defer the purchase of a dartboard for the basement. Finally, yesterday, I splurged on the board. It's nothing extravagant, but for the price one would think it would come with everything advertised on the box, including two sets of crappy darts. Got the package home, however, and tacked up the board before learning that the darts themselves had escaped the package. They were nowhere to be found. You can imagine our disappointment; gloom overflowed. I'd even picked up an open-patella knee sleeve at Dick's to keep my loose and slippery left knee-parts compacted while heaving the darts at the basement wall.

So back to Dick's I went late this afternoon. They had one other dartboard on the shelf like the one I bought yesterday. Perfect. Until I opened it and found that it, too, was missing the small bag of dart parts. No bag. No darts. No other boards like it (next closest, a thirty-dollar upgrade). So I went ahead and picked up a set of soft-tips, talked the asst. manager into giving me them at a significant discount. Completed: a dartboard and darts for the basement.

Bookmark and Share Posted by at February 12, 2006 6:15 PM to Autoludography