They’ve quasi-recently opened a gargantuan Menard’s store not too far from here. To this point, I’d only been peripherally aware of this chain’s existence. I’m pretty sure they were a thing in Indiana when I lived there light years ago, but I don’t ever remember visiting one in the five years I spent as an adopted Hoosier.
I honestly had no idea what sort of goods or services this place offered until recently, when I started perusing their Sunday
circular novella. No, for serious. The Menard’s ad that comes in the paper each week is absolutely enormous. 85 pages of every-damn-thing you can imagine, Now On Sale! Do you need a reciprocating saw? Go to Menard’s! 4 tons of decorative landscaping gravel? Go to Menard’s! How about some Cheerios? Or beef jerky? Or tomato soup? Go to Menard’s! Long underwear? Women’s hair accessories? A swing set? Granite countertops? GET THEE TO A FUCKING MENARD’S.
In fact, I’ve found it’s easier to list things that are not available for purchase at your local Menard’s (you’re welcome):
Ferret-like marital aids
Menard’s, if you’re reading this, the coffee filter thing really puzzles me. Clue me in here, please. Also: maybe consider the ferret idea. You’d certainly have that market locked down.