Crash'n to Smash'n (kitchen, phase 1)

After hours and hours of designing and redesigning and re-redesigning the kitchen, I FINALLY pulled out my sledge hammer and violently removed the counters and cabinets! I felt such amazing buzz of energy blended together in a swarm of testosterone driven power and emotional relief to finally close the door on all the considerations and plans, landing on a single vision shared with my wife. Of course, everything is open for reconsideration until the hammer starts swinging and the wood starts flying.

Ah, the lovely art of demolition... Anarchy feeding my cerebral core in a focused frenzy with one thought to guide me: JOHN SMASH!!!!

The delicious dismantling sadly lasted only a few minutes, but the satisfaction lasted for hours. Mmmm....

In my quest to remove unwanted, undesirable artifacts from the mid 70's, I eagerly approached the chandelier hanging in all it's flowery glory. Killing the power, cutting the wires, and releasing the ceiling mounts all fit into the standard dismantling procedure to pull the thing down... But as I eased the vintage piece down, it gave a loud ZIP! sound and dropped violently to my feet, erupting into hundreds of glass and porcelain shards later to be found in some very obscure places around the kitchen.

One bit of fortune came when a majority of the lamp collected itself upon descent into a kitchen cabinet drawer that happened to be directly beneath the fixture in the crash zone. My wife felt no remorse at the loss, but rather praised the fact it died a horribly violent death.

Great effort went into cutting cabinets apart to reassemble them to match. I call them FrankenCabinets, and they look great for a guy who passed wood shop with a D-, and a basic box project that leaned heavily to the left. I also need to point out that my wife has a natural skill in the area, which saved the day several times.

When it came time to rebuild the kitchen, we purchased counters online through Lowes.com, and I happily made my way to retrieve them from the local store. Pretty impressive use of technology with a 20 minute promise to have the order ready.

Typically, I feel the human element is something that shouldn't be lost in this digital-heavy world, but in this scenario I feel the human element would've been best left out. The sales associate lady told me that my approach would make my kitchen "look like it was done by a grade schooler... "

Ack! Really??? Unbelievable...

The associate went on to treat me like a severe inconvenience... and worse. Did she have a bad morning? Did she simply hate the online order demanding to be filled in 20 minutes? Did she hate men? I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt...

Until she brought her attitude into full display when talking with several other associates at the front checkout.

"I basically had to do his project for him." She scoffed. "Thought he could order online as if he knew what he was doing."

I returned the following day to have a discussion with the manager... outside. The fact I asked the guy to step outside made him turn white, wearing body language that betrayed his expectation of the worst. I suppose I could've used a tone other than my Darth Vader voice, but I had a point to make. I calmly asserted my disapproval of the other sales associate, and after my brief monologue he relaxed and openly agreed with my statement: "The store has a virus that needs to be addressed sooner than later." I trust my Jedi mind tricks worked... The kitchen looks great... For now. The new range will be accompanied by a matching built-in microwave and new floors, but before that comes to pass, the popcorn ceiling must GO AWAY!