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| - My never-ending homeowner's quest continues. After Walls Alive ran out of the base needed for my paints and I subsequently measured my walls completely wrong and needed additional gallons of, well everything, I was lost in a raging sea of painter's emotion. I nearly resorted to pounding my fists against my newly painted walls before I remembered that would be totally counterproductive and I don't really want to have to learn to patch drywall.
I didn't want to wait the 2 - 3 weeks for the base to come back into stock at Walls Alive (though I did have a great experience there), so I needed to source out my fine gray paints elsewhere. Enter: Paint Direct.
There's a few things you should know, namely:
1. Paint Direct isn't open on Saturdays (WTF!), but they DO open at 7:00am so the workadays can go get paint before going to their 9 - 5's.
2. Paint Direct is a pretty massive store with lots of tools, tape, scrapers. putty, spakel and more. You'll find pretty much anything you need here.
3. Paint Direct is way down in the Southeast. I live in the northwest. Awesome.
So I had to make a special trip out there. I set my alarm and slept well, dreaming of gray hallways and the freedom I'd soon feel from the oppressive old poo-brown shades currently hugging the walls of my new home.
When my alarm went at 7, I snapped up my phone, called up Paint Direct and croaked out my questions - did they have my paint? Yes. But then things got a little weird - maybe on account of my sleep deprived state. I asked them if I could get two gallons mixed since I was coming all the way from the northwest. This was SUPPOSED to save me time. Instead the reply was "Sure, come on down!"
Uh, what?
I was trying to pre-order. Oh well, I was too tired to rationalize that they probably didn't get what my toad-croak voice had mumbled into the phone. So after travelling 3 days by ox and buggy up the treacherous Deerfoot Highway (and nearly being sideswiped by some stupid kid with surfer hair driving a Sienna), I arrived.
A lovely woman with tattooed knuckles mixed up my paint .While I waited, I enjoyed hearing the banter between the "regulars" - (mostly big burly European dudes with no hair and thick accents) and the staff. Mostly funny stuff - Polish dudes asking for things for free, guys behind the counter yelling at one another about being robbed.. pretty solid, except for one loose joke about beating your wife. That'll wake you up something fierce.
Finally after about 15 minutes, my paint was ready. The tattooed lady encouraged me to come back and gave me the nicest early morning smile. If I need more paint, I think I will. Mostly because I have to - at this point nobody else in the city seems capable of mixing Pratt and Lamberts in matte finishes - but also because they took good care of me here.
$120 and two gallons of paint (paint is more expensive than gold) later, I'm pretty much ready to finish off my monumental painting task.
Wish me luck.
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