Jack had only gone on a trip to Bunnings for one thing—a simple packet of screws to build his Ikea bed.

“In and out,” he told himself as he stepped through the massive sliding doors. But as soon as he entered the warehouse store, the sheer size of it hit him. Aisles stretched as far as the eye could see, everything from power tools to pot plants. The aroma of timber and sawdust filled the air, the smell burning his nasal passages and the fair hum of forklifts echoing in the distance.

He grabbed a shopping basket, thinking he wouldn’t need a trolley. How wrong he was.

As Jack wandered past an aisle stacked with shiny new drills, he thought, “Well, maybe I do need a new drill…”

He found himself drifting further, lured by the endless smart tags, sirens, toilet seats, square-head bolts, eye bolts, wood screws, and paint swatches.

Somewhere between the forest of the garden section and the sea of light fixtures, Jack realised he had no idea where he was. The neatly organised aisles began to blur, and everything looked the same. The dirty grey floors to the red aisles to the ceiling shape. He tried to retrace his steps, but the store felt like a labyrinth. Was that the same stack of shovels he’d passed earlier? Or was it a different one? Panic started to set in when he spotted a BBQ display that seemed oddly familiar.

“Excuse me, can you point me to the screws?” he asked a nearby employee.

The employee smiled and said, “Sure! Aisle 37, just head straight down past the outdoor furniture and take a left.”

Jack nodded, but as he turned the corner, he realised he had absolutely no idea where outdoor furniture was. His phone buzzed with a text from his friend, “Are you still at Bunnings? It’s been an hour mate!”

Determined to not let a warehouse get the better of him, Jack pressed on, now pushing a trolley filled with random items he hadn’t intended to buy—an extension cord, a bag of mulch, and a miniature cactus. At this point, it wasn’t even about the screws anymore; it was about survival.

Just as he was about to give up and make peace with living amongst the shelves forever, Jack spotted a towering sign in the distance: ‘Screws and Fasteners’. Aisle 37!

With a sigh of relief mixed with comfort, Jack grabbed the screws and headed for the checkout. As he left, he glanced back at the sprawling maze of aisles, guffawing to himself. He knew he’d be back soon, but next time, he’d bring a map—or better yet, a guide.

As he loaded his car, Jack realised something important: he’d completely misremembered something. He didn’t need screws, what he actually needed was … a hammer.