"Right," he muttered, reaching for his phone. "Time for a new ."
The rain was drumming a relentless beat against the windshield of Leo’s old sedan as he pulled into the driveway. He reached up, his thumb finding the familiar, worn button of the garage remote clipped to the sun visor. Click. Nothing. Only the rhythmic sweep of the wipers.
He knew he couldn't just walk into a grocery store and hope for the best; these things usually took those little silver coins that looked like pirate treasure for ants. He did a quick mental scan of his best options: where to buy garage remote batteries
He shifted the car back into reverse. The hardware store was only ten minutes away. He’d grab a two-pack—one for the remote and one for the "junk drawer" for the next time the sky decided to open up.
: Best Buy or even a local Batteries Plus would definitely have it. Those spots were like pharmacies for gadgets; if it held a charge, they carried it. "Right," he muttered, reaching for his phone
: Places like Home Depot or Lowe’s were his safest bet. They had entire end-caps dedicated to "specialty electronics," where rows of CR2032 and CR2016 batteries hung like shiny medals. Plus, if he was lucky, an associate in the hardware aisle could help him pop the casing open without snapping the plastic tabs.
: CVS or Walgreens usually had a small "office and electronics" section. It was a gamble, but it saved him a trip across town. He knew he couldn't just walk into a
: If he could wait until Tuesday, Amazon would ship a five-pack to his door for the price of one battery at the store. But looking at the downpour outside, Leo didn't want to wait until Tuesday.