A Manic Pixie Dream Girl Visits Home Depot

Photo by Chermiti Mohamed on Pexels.com

A series of snapshots.

It’s 7 am on a Thursday and, aside from a handful of Chevy Silverado trucks, her yellow punch-buggy is the only car in the parking lot. What on earth could Manic Pixie Dream Girl be doing in a Home Depot? We have no idea, but we’ve got to find out.

Manic Pixie Dream Girl seems lost in here, wandering aimlessly in a sea of construction workers and butch lesbians, searching for her brooding male hero so that she can make him a paper crane out of his receipt. 

You only catch glimmers of her throughout Home Depot: over in Lighting Fixtures wearing an oversized denim jacket and reciting spoken word poetry to a desk lamp, in Patio and Outdoors, on the polka dot lounge chair, reading a worn copy of Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams, dog-earing every single page. Is Manic Pixie Dream Girl real or did you imagine her? You’re not quite sure, but, then again, you’ve always sort of thought of yourself as a modern Andrew Largeman from Garden State. 

Now she’s engrossed in a conversation with the woman in the Carhartt jacket about what paint color she should use to start–but never finish—repainting her guest bathroom with. What shade of yellow truly says “wanderlust,” after all? You don’t know why but suddenly you have the urge to invite her home with you, imaging her egging you on to spray paint “FUCK” on your drywall, or, better yet, a quote from The Smiths. 

In the Home and Garden section, you watch Manic Pixie Dream Girl snipping wildflowers with a pair of nail scissors. Does Home Depot sell wildflowers? No, she brought them with her from home. And now she’s putting one behind her ear and laughing at something Michael in Lumber said. Fuck Michael. 

Is someone playing Lana Del Rey over the loudspeaker? They must be, because now Manic Pixie Dream Girl is dancing in the middle of the bathroom appliance isle. She’s not like any other girl you’ve ever met, mostly because she dances in public, reads banned books, and owes the IRS over $40,000. You think that Manic Pixie Dream Girl is perfect. 

But wait, there she is buying lumber to make a tiny coffin for her recently deceased tabby cat, Wes Anderson. Oh no, now she’s sobbing uncontrollably to Michael from Lumber. She just needs someone with the beard of a lumberjack and triceps of.. well, also a lumberjack, to comfort her. She loved Wes Anderson so much—almost as much as the director himself. God, you just want to go on an elaborate adventure with her to spread Wes Anderson’s ashes while she teaches you a lesson about the fleeting temporality of life.

You imagine shopping for household goods with her here at Home Depot, a new marble countertop that she’ll make love to you on, a bookshelf for the half-finished novels she’ll read to you before you go to sleep, a glass she’ll angrily break in the fight that ultimately pushes you to realize your flaws and find true maturity. Manic Pixie Dream Girl could do so much for your life, you just know it…

And then, as if waking from a dream, you watch her covertly move behind a stack of pipes in Home Renovations, and, suddenly, she farts. And, just like that, you’re over it. 

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