Family Reunion

Somehow we managed to sober up the Doberman long enough to keep him from slurping down our alcoholic step mom's turtle soup. Uncle Lem carried in the pink Christmas tree that announced the men in our family lacked a manly essence.
My cousin Norm came in from the yard where he had been taunting the dog who outweighed him by 40 pounds. My step mom sang The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down in a key and pitch that caused neighbors to call police. Nevertheless, my dad was beaming with his extended family all together, including a bunch still arriving in campers from the surrounding mountains. I felt certain this would be the year we finally got Rachel married off to Angus, a giant kind man who chopped wood with fervor.

Grout Bully Search

Bed, Bath and Beyond has run out of Grout Bully. It's a tube you shake and press and caulk comes out in a straight line. I was crushed. Only last week I discovered this marvel. I knew I should have bought two.
The stock fellow searched the entire store, me right behind him. He went into the stock room and many minutes later emerged looking like his dog died. Nothing.
I tried not to get emotional, but standing in the aisle in full view of customers and cashiers, yes, I broke down. Why me? Just when I think I've finally solved my grout problem, the solution is whisked away.
I suppose I could try other BB&B outlets, but knowing my history, I doubt if I'll ever see another magical tube again.
I could go on E-Bay and Craigslist, but buying USED Grout Bully seems so...unhygienic. I still have some squeezes left in my old tube and I'm careful not to waste any. My tile floor has spots screaming for cleansing. I dread the last squeeze. Most likely I'll go out afterwards and do something reckless, like park in a bus stop.
You are victims here too. I was planning on coming to your place with my tube and work on your grout. That may be nothing but a wistful dream now.