For many Australians, a Saturday trip to Bunnings is as inevitable as the weekend itself. But for Paul Daley, the experience has become a source of existential dread and self-reflection. 'Every time I go to Bunnings I feel like I’ve left a little bit of my soul behind,' he writes, capturing the sentiment of countless DIY enthusiasts and reluctant shoppers alike.
Daley admits to a lack of handyman skills, despite repeated attempts at projects like grafting a staghorn fern or keeping earthworms alive for composting. 'I will never be able to graft a staghorn fern to the gumtree in our backyard even though the helpful salesman advised something like, “It’s easy – just about any idiot can do it,”' he laments. His family jokes about his ineptitude, but the weekly trips continue.
The car park at Bunnings is a battleground, where Daley navigates aggressive drivers and tradies' utes with stickers like 'Tradies get the Ladies.' He marvels at the skills of tradesmen who can install a jacuzzi or rewire a garage in a weekend, while he struggles with cup hooks and smoke alarms. The highlight, however, is the sausage sizzle—a staple of the Bunnings experience—though even that comes with its own frustrations, such as waiting in line while others eat his share.
Daley's reflections extend to Ikea, which he calls the 'divorce factory,' recalling a coffee table that fell apart years ago. Despite the trials, the ritual continues, a mix of hope and resignation. 'I wouldn’t mind having another go at attaching a staghorn to that tree,' he says, hinting at the enduring appeal of the hardware store, even as it chips away at his soul.
