Today I was sent on many missions which I did not understand. I drove to an audio store (which is different from a music store because there is nothing there that would suggest music. May as well be auto parts as far as I can tell. Of course, I'm not all that familiar with auto parts, either). Fortunately I was expected and they recognized me immediately as Chris' Trophy Wife. They were very helpful and carried a large and heavy something or other to my car. They told me to stop pouring beer in the speaker.
So it was a speaker, then.
I don't even drink beer.
So I drive away and then discover that they didn't give me the jacks. "What are jacks?" my friend Sue says. This makes me glad because she is musiciany and she should know about things you buy in audio stores.
They are those things you pick up after you bounce the ball, of course.
So I am sent to yet another store to pick up jacks because the second store is right on my way to the third store. Although the third stop is not a store, it is a repair shop. It is where things go after people pour beer in them.
I pull up to the repair place and go in with whatever that thing is Chris put on my front seat this morning. I see no one behind the counter. I peer into the depths of the very long and narrow shop and say "....hello?"
There is a path down the length of the shop and on either side of the path is broken equipment piled literally to the ceiling. On a work bench is a computer looking thing from probably the '70's that I think I saw on my trip to the Air and Space Museum. I do not see any human beings.
So I look back out in the parking lot and there's a lanky man walking toward me. He says hello and precedes to step on an up-ended cassette deck which is apparently there for use as a step stool since there's no other way to get to the other side of the counter. He takes his position and accepts my broken something-or-other. He plugs it in, sticks a piece of wire in the back, checks for vital signs, connects some speaker wire and suddenly there is music.
It is a receiver, then.
I glance around the shop and ask if I need some kind of claim check. He tells me he'll just put it on our other work order. I am a little nervous about this but can't actually voice "how on earth are you going to know which something-or-other is his? How will you know it's even here? How?"
I leave quietly.
And when I return home, I see that a spaceship has landed in our yard. Chris is looking pleased, so I say "uh, wow honey, is that the chicken coop?" He nods.
"What does it look like?" he asks me.
"A really big spin-art thingy?"
"A septic tank?"
"no, someplace we've been"
"You built a replica of the HIRSHHORN???"
Yes, I have a chicken coop that will look like the Hirshhorn Museum. I ask if there will be a sculpture garden, which he confirms. He also confirms the center fountain. Our chickens are in trouble.
He tells me he's been looking at pictures of the building for weeks and finally found a site that has all the specifications. The building itself hovers over the fenced in free-range area.
I am so, so, so not making this up.