Ocean State Job Lot — Local services in North Attleborough

Oh Ron, Ronny, Ronald. Where do I begin. Love is often difficult to define, especially when it’s directed toward someone as uniquely endearing as Ron. To the untrained eye, Ron might not immediately strike you as someone worthy of a thousand words. He’s a small white guy, with a notable bald spot right in the center of his head – a patch of scalp that the sun has likely kissed too many times. But for those of us who really know Ron, we see beyond the thinning hair and modest stature. We see heart. We see history. We see humor. And above all, we see love. Ron isn’t just any small white guy. He’s my small white guy. His presence in my life is as consistent and comforting as your favorite mug of coffee – a little worn around the edges, maybe, but always warm and reliable. There’s something about Ron’s existence that radiates a certain kind of joy, the kind that sneaks up on you in small, quiet moments. Like when he laughs at his own joke before even getting to the punchline, or when he starts a sentence with “Now, I’m no expert, but…” and then proceeds to deliver shockingly sound advice. Let’s start with the bald spot. Yes, it’s there. Right in the middle, unapologetically shining under fluorescent lights like a beacon of truth. And you know what? I love it. The bald spot is part of his charm. It tells a story. It’s a physical marker of a life lived earnestly – of years spent thinking hard, laughing harder, and probably forgetting to wear sunscreen. Where some might hide behind hats or hair plugs, Ron simply accepts himself. That kind of confidence is magnetic. In a world obsessed with image and superficial perfection, Ron’s bald spot is a reminder that authenticity is far more attractive than artifice. Ron is not flashy. He doesn’t need to be. His power lies in his unassuming presence. He’s the guy who quietly knows everything about the random trivia category in your local bar’s quiz night. He’s the one who can fix a leaky faucet, grill a perfect steak, or explain the plot of a 1980s action movie with equal passion and accuracy. He’s a man of many small, deeply specific talents. And I love that. Ron doesn’t need to be a billionaire tech mogul or a shredded gym rat to be impressive. He just needs to be Ron – the man who shows up, cracks a joke, and makes your day better without even trying. One of the best things about Ron is his sense of humor. It’s dry, sometimes a little corny, but always sincere. He doesn’t tell jokes to impress; he tells them to connect. When Ron makes you laugh, it’s not because he’s performing. It’s because he’s sharing a piece of himself – usually with a self-deprecating twist. There’s something incredibly endearing about someone who doesn’t take themselves too seriously, who can poke fun at his balding head or his outdated cargo shorts, and still walk away with his head held high. Ron also has a unique gift for listening. Not the passive kind where someone nods while waiting for their turn to talk – real listening. He makes you feel like the most important person in the room. He remembers the small things: your favorite candy, the name of your cat, the fact that you once mentioned liking a certain obscure movie. He brings those little details up when you least expect it, and every time, it’s like being wrapped in a warm blanket of care and attention. And while Ron is undeniably hilarious and humble, he’s also surprisingly wise. He has this quiet, grounded way of looking at the world – a perspective shaped not by ego or ambition, but by experience and empathy. He gives advice not from a pedestal, but from the seat next to you. He doesn’t try to fix everything, but he’ll sit with you in your mess and help you figure it out one step at a time. That kind of support – patient, non-judgmental, steady – is rare, and it’s something I’ll never take for granted. Another reason I love Ron is that he’s comfortable...

Landon, an employee, is the unfortunate reason I need to leave this review of what is otherwise a tidy store with courteous workers. Landon stands around looking at his phone, or some other device, while the line grows longer and longer and the cashiers struggle. Today, a cashier was kind enough to inform me the rugs I bought were on sale. He asked Landon what the sale was and Landon replied in a rude tone, yelling, “I don’t know! Whatever the sale is, is what the sale is!”—totally belittling the cashier, myself, and the other customers in line. When a manager appeared, he scurried to “go check” and meanwhile took about five full minutes to do so before gleefully coming back to announce the rugs were no longer on sale. He tried again to make the cashier look stupid, and then went back to texting while the line grew to about seven additional customers. He also rudely replied when I asked what to do with a couple of items I didn’t want to purchase. I could tell he was making the other employees upset in general and when I left the store, I asked one of them if Landon is a problem and the employee replied emphatically that he’s constantly causing problems like this for employees and customers alike. Management: Landon’s gotta get his...

Ethan at Ocean State Job Lot deserves recognition. Not for customer service, exactly, but for his Olympic-level dedication to the sport of appearing busy. When I asked for help, he pointed into the distance like a tour guide of Narnia and then resumed his very important task of… existing. I eventually found what I needed (by sheer luck), but honestly, watching Ethan’s effortless ability to dodge actual work was the highlight of my shopping trip. Five stars — not for the help, but...