Home Depot is notoriously awful when it comes to customer service or at least notorious for being difficult to find someone to help you in the first place. That's what happens in depots, I suppose.
Eventually, I found a woman and asked her to help me. I needed electrical cord because I am repairing a lamp. I knew where the cord was but couldn't operate the large machine that stores all the spools of cord. She said that she couldn't do it either but would help me find someone who could. She looked down a few aisles and finally spotted the coworker she was looking for. She summoned me to her side and pointed him out. "He can help you. He can't hear well, but he's terrific." Casual, matter-of-fact, nothing more.
With this information I said thank you and began to pursue a small Asian man in an orange Home Depot apron down a long aisle. His back was turned and he was stocking shelves. When I reached him, I stood close to him, caught his attention and said aloud, trying not to over do it, "Excuse me, I need some help cutting lamp cord..."
The small man in the apron looked at me blankly and simply handed me a piece of cardboard and a pen. "Oh," I said to myself, perhaps even out loud, I'm not sure.
I thought for a moment how best and succinctly to jot down my query. I began to write a simple sentence that contained all pertinent information: lamp cord, white, 6ft, please, etc. He read my note. He nodded. He walked with me to the cord station.
As the gentleman operated the overly complicated machine that stored the spools of wire and measured out my 6ft of cord against the makeshift ruler drawn on the work desk in front of the machine I noticed a patch on the small man's apron: I speak ASL – American Sign Language.
It didn't take much time for him to find and access the right spool (lamp cord – white), or to lay it out on the work table, first a length of 4ft from one end of the table to the other and then an additional 2ft from one end of the table to a thick black Sharpie mark half way between the two corners, or to find his cable cutters in the pocket of his orange apron, or to neatly coil my 6ft of cord in a nice, round circle, or to label the cord with the proper amount so that I could be accurately charged at the register.
It also didn't take me much time to debate in my head whether or not it would be rude or tacky to quickly ask Google on my phone how to say "thank you" in ASL. I weighed the pros and cons. I questioned necessity. I calculated the amount of effort it would take and the time left to find my answer. I wondered if I would be able to execute it properly without rehearsal and if I would be understood. If my effort would be appreciated or ignored.
I typed quickly. I pressed "search." I clicked on the first link. I read fast, keeping an eye on the gentleman's progress with my lamp cord. My eyes scanned a small illustration. I committed to following through.
As the small Asian man in the orange Home Depot apron quietly handed me a 6ft coil of white electrical cord I brought my flat hand to my mouth and then moved it forward & and down toward the man.
He did the same.
He did the same.
