I’m a dreamer, that’s the problem

I’m back in the batcave after a day topside… and I have to say, after sitting at the kitchen table for 6 hours yesterday working, that my back hurt and my butt was sore.  Sitting at the kitchen table needs to be a three-times a day thing, if that, in order to decrease on the amount of food crumbs in the rest of the house.

I decided that since my husband’s working consistently for the past few months that I wanted to get RID of that stupid ancient rocker-recliner thing that my bil dumped off here years ago when we couldn’t afford furniture (after we “acquired” the neighbor’s discarded sofa after we moved in and they were preparing to move OUT)…

What? Like you’ve never done that? (Phssh!)

So, we went out to replace this ancient monstrosity (why do people feel compelled to dump their junk off here? I don’t WANT it, ya hear? None of it!) and visited a furniture store 15 minutes from here that is H-U-G-E.

We knew that the second we walked in the door, someone would be glued to our leg, so we just waited for it as the doors opened (as we were the ONLY customers there)… and WHAM! BOOM! KAPLOOEY!

We were greeted before we even crossed the threshold by a tall salesman who looked as though he could play on the defensive line of a pro football team.  He introduced himself, then proceeded to give us the run-down on the store (as we had never been there… correction… *I* had never been there… before)… and said if we needed him to let him know.

WELL… we saw a chair, walked two steps towards it, and we again were in the company of our salesman.

I can be … um… difficult to please.  I know what I want, what color, which material, what style and such.  I will let you know when a) I see it, b) when I sit in it, and c) when I want to buy it.

I hadn’t even SAT down before I’m given a running history of this chair.

OK, I get it, you know your shit… I’m impressed, really… however, could you just leave us alone to check things out, and when I want an answer, you will let me ask it.  FROM a distance.  Like, on the other side of the store.  Besides, its not like we could put a chair under our shirts and skip out of the store unnoticed.  Right?

I must’ve sat in 30 chairs… none of which caught my attention (I was either distracted by the sheer discomfort or the price… and to be honest, I’m not looking to drop a thousand dollars on A CHAIR that will be misused by my kids, cat, and nieces/nephew… I’m looking for an affordable place to park my ass that is comfortable and comfortable)… for long.

Until we resigned ourselves to the fact that maybe chair shopping is too expensive.  I wanted a comfy chair and ottoman.  The males in my family want a recliner.  I am out-voted and out-numbered.  But, I’m also the one BUYING the goddamn thing.

Chairs with ottomans are too expensive.  I get it.  Ok?

So, after the salesguy FINALLY leaves us alone, we’re in a small room filled with “yo mama” type recliners… you know, the type yo mama would have in her living room… in the 1970s or 1980s.

I sighed and flopped into this purple monstrosity and pulled the handle… and I was in SHEER HEAVEN… like a body pillow whisked me off of the floor and laid me gently on it and hugged me into submission. 

Then, I pried myself out of the chair and let my husband sit in it.  He was like THIS close to falling asleep. 

Could it be?  Could I have found my chair nirvana that is big, fluffy, and PURPLE? I can’t have a purple chair… my family room is yellow… red… black… purple would just be wrong… wrong in an oh-so-right kind’ve way.  I need me a purple….

And, that’s when the salesman told me that the chair could have DIFFERENT material for an additional $75.  The chair, a massive $499, far outshown any that I had seen at double the price.  We knew it was a match… a splendid and comfy match, until, that is, the salesman said, “Is this the first place you’ve visited?”

Here were go… let’s ruin my orgasmic furniture experience… with some bullshit comment.

“Yes, why?”

“I suggest you look around, go to [big chair manufacturer that is VERY expensive] and see what they have.”

Is he not wanting a commission?  Does he not want to SELL something?  I don’t see any cars in the parking lot… except for the 5 on-staff employees.  Is he serious?  He is sending us elsewhere? Did my pickiness piss him off?

“Uh, why?”

“I want you to find the right chair for you,” he started talking, about how he went to this big chair manufacturer, out of spite, because his wife had a “chair” and he didn’t, and the chair he wanted, you know, out of spite, was $1500.

I just want a comfy chair that FITS in the room… size-wise and price and color and omg, it was like laying on a happy body pillow.  Was he kidding me?

So we left.  Without the chair.  And, now we’ll be going SOMEWHERE else, where the salespeople maybe WANT a commission…