Oy vey, what a day, but I finally found my 1/8 luan at the HD--the HD I've only been to about a gazillion times but never saw it there before.
EXTREMELY long post here, but maybe my agony will give you a chuckle.
I was determined, and no amount of incorrect information from HD floor people--nor being IGNORED by HD floor people--was going to stop me.
These wonderful folks also have a great new trick by saying, "Well, I work in plumbing, so I don't know much about lumber." Whereas I respond, "So why the hell don't you go back to the plumbing department so you can help people who need assistance with THAT!?"
This is in addition to the world-renowned HD two-step--where they're assisting a customer, you patiently and quietly wait your turn a respectable 7 to 10 feet away, and when they're done with that customer, they do a complete 180 and leave you standing there feeling like a total idiot.
Seriously, they used to be great by me, but now they're getting like the previous Builder's Square that was there.
A guy in doors says they don't sell it any more. A guy in lumber says it's with the doors. A guy at the contractors desk is totally ignoring me to help a customer with big breasts who is asking for advice on tulips. A woman in lumber says "Here it is!" And I have to point out that although 1/4" oak ply is indeed nice stuff, it is not 1/8" luan.
I trudge to customer service, almost a beaten man. A girl takes pity on me and does a computer search for "luan." She narrows the list down and says, "Well, we only have 41 sheets of 1/8 luan in stock."
Right now, I am sexually aroused big-time--not by her, by the luan. Better than Viagara. And I pitifully stammer, "I...I...I need one sheet, please. PRETTY please!? I can't find it."
She gets on the horn to get someone from lumber to come over. 5 minutes, 10 minutes. I am no longer aroused. 5 more minutes, she gives up too, but she's pretty nice about totally blowing me off. At this point, I am not even a man any longer. I am both impotent and sterile.
I slowly shlep back to lumber, and like the red sea parting, I spot "Byron" with his HD apron…a fancy button that says something like "Service is our business!"…and literally, I saw a shining, magical, glistening halo floating over his head. Just like an ANGEL, only no wings. Just a hammer.
"B...B...B...Byron, I need some of that service like it says on your button." I ask him for 1/8 luan, and he says, "I don't think we carry that stuff any more." I hoarsely inform him that the computer gal says you have 41 sheets.
He takes the lead, and bravely, like a platoon sargeant leading his inexperienced men through a mine field, we begin walking up and down the aisles. Suddenly, with a surprised tone in his voice that also makes my heart aflutter and a pointed finger, he exclaims, "Oh! There it is!"
Tears pour down my cheeks, my knees buckle, and I wet myself. But at least I have my luan.
My HD cleverly puts their 1/8" door skin luan between wooden fence posts and MAILBOX fence posts--nowhere NEAR the rest of the ply. No wonder they're stuck with 41 sheets--no one will ever FIND the stuff.
Only 8 bucks a sheet, and it's less than 4 by 8. It's like 36 by 72, 80, don't remember exactly. It's been too emotional an experience to remember many details.
I get on my knees to kiss Byron's feet and thank him, and he tells me to stop it. That I'm embarrassing him. But the way the love was flowing from my soaring heart, there was no way to control myself.
I pay for my precious luan, pass through the exit, and a strong breeze almost carries me and Larry (that's what I named him) over to the next block. This stuff IS bendy.
I get to the truck, and my bed is covered with these disgusting gooey berries that fell from trees and stain stuff--and I know it's gonna stain Larry. It's a red color, so I think maybe this is a staining solution from God! But as an athiest, I decide against this, that they're just disgusting berries that are going to stain Larry.
No choice anyway, so I choose the poorer side and lay him down. Later, upon removal, just two little stains, so no real damage done.
I arrive home, show Larry his new home, introduce him to the family and pets, and blissfully pop open a cold Budweiser.
It doesn't get any better than this, folks.
Now get your asses over to the General forum to answer some questions for me.