There is a war going on at the Home Depot on Sunset and St. Andrews. Here is the information I have:

1. Three to four years ago, you would go to the Home Depot and turn into the parking lot. There would be 20 guys, gathered in groups of 2 or 3 scattered throughout the lot, who would offer to work for cheap. The work they were willing to do ranged from fix your car, to plant your sod (I typed “sad” instead of “sod” and almost left it be), to install your copper plumbing. I usually said no, felt like a moron for not speaking Spanish, and then left wondering if I should have taken that one guy up on his offer to fix the substantial dent in the side of my car for $30. I like to think of this time as the Peaceful Period.

2. A year and a half ago, I turned into the Home Depot lot, and there were cars stopped in every lane, bartering with the guys looking for work. Sometimes there’d be a dude blocking your parking space aggressively, making the vague hand signals that seem to mean “I will plant that giant palm tree in your yard for pennies, lady, BELIEVE IT.” After ten minutes or so of aimless circling, having become frustrated with the traffic and the offers of labor, I went to the upstairs parking lot, stepping on a smashed breakfast burrito when I exited my car. A man tried to sell me a mango outside the entrance, and when I refused, he followed me mumbling until I lost him in the ladies’ bathroom. When I came out, he was hassling a teenager. I hot-footed it back to the car. The woman next to me was telling a guy that no, no, he could not install her bathtub. No, no, I got a guy. No, seriously, let me into my car! I call this The Home Despotism Period.

3. More recently, I’ve observed a bunch of hefty security guards roaming around the parking lot like short pale sharks. They never smile. Their job is to break up the mobs of guys who are looking for work, stand around by the burger truck, and check your receipt, if they’ve got the time. At first, I resented their presence: if I wanted bathroom tile laid for cheap, I knew where to go! I didn’t want to freeze out guys like the one who had wanted a shot at fixing the ding in the door. Legal? Probably not. And this is where things get sticky, of course. If I were broke and supporting a family, I’d want the option of hanging out in a central place and offering to do odd jobs for cheap (cook you dinner for $10! Walk your dog for $5!); I wouldn’t want that to be my only option for employment. But I would want it to be an option. A lot of these guys are illegal immigrants, so this is one of the few options available to them. Do you say “You shouldn’t work for less than minimum wage; this is a right, but it comes with citizenship. Since you’re not a citizen, you can’t work at all. Not even if you’re willing to do it for pennies.” Ideologically, maybe for some idealistically, I suppose there’s a mess of stuff to deal with there; maybe allowing these dudes to do what they do in the HD lot somehow would cause the fall of our nation’s delicate house of cards. It might mess with our infrastructure. What do I know? I was an art history major. What I do know is that it’s crazy depressing to see a group of dudes sitting on a concrete wall, wanting to ask you if you need someone to hook up your washer dryer, and not being able to ask because there’s a dude there giving them stink-eye and helping somebody else into a parking spot with a flapping hand. I don’t blame the security guards, not personally. I guess I can park pretty easily now. Today I kind of wanted to be offered a mango, though; doesn’t seem like that’s too bad. I call this The Home Depot Occupation period.