Sunday, January 10, 2010
ok. so when husband and i first got married, we bought furniture. it was a grueling, horrific experience, and my behavior was quite bad, i admit. on the day we stopped to "just look," we were coming home from a weekend of kayaking in the Adirondacks. i looked like ass, and predictably, had gotten my period, so was in full Medusa warrior mode. all i wanted was a nice shower, 5 Motrin, and a case of Snickers bars. i did not want to go furniture shopping. previous outings in that arena were eventful and lively, shall we say, however i was able to keep my mouth shut by bringing my blood pressure to a boiling range, thus keeping the brain occupied with explosion rather than speaking. this particular day, 8 years ago, however, hormones were free-ranging throughout my bloodstream looking for cocoa molecules, and finding none, decided to help the brain not explode by letting the mouth have it's way. it did not help that i was in a serious mental state anyway, having gotten my 1000th Bad Perm a week before, and between the wind on the lake, and the wind in the car ride home, i looked like cotton candy with legs. and no makeup. and my legs were hairy. well, stubbly. it did not help that the sales clerk was fresh off the Streets and zeroing in on my new husband. (this has been validated by another witness - the actual husband). this new husband was blind (yeah, right) to the salesperson's obvious come-ons, or so he claimed later in court, which further fueled the fire. I do recall needing to bring him outside at one point to explain why we needed to leave immediately, and failing logic, yelling I Will Not Buy A Dining Room Set From That Woman. I Will Not. She Will Not Be With Us For Every Meal. (now, you're shocked. but i say wait until perimenopause hits you between the ovaries, my friend). so today, armed with fresh new years promises to play nice, we returned to the very same store to look at new bedroom furniture. and there She was. (i was impressed, and gave her silent kudos - i have never stayed at a job that long. nor a marriage, till now.) but i am older & wiser, and not subject to the hormonal fluctuations that ruled me then. good and bad, i guess. now, i have no excuse. and, i admit i was impressed as my husband veered, actually Veered, away from her and beelined down the stairs to the clearance department. away from the beautiful Harden bedroom set visible from the entry. and from her. we mingled with legless chairs and scarred tables from the Island Of Forgotten Toys for a bit, then cautiously went back up. and there waiting for us, was a whole new salesperson. her name was Kim, and by the time we looked at bedrooms, dining sets, and occasional tables (wtf is an "occasional" table?? what is it the rest of the time??), i could imagine inviting this new salesperson over for chocolate martinis. so with the tension level at normal (our normal) we perused. and when i fell in love with a rustic style bedroom set, my husband looked at me and fairly yelled What Is Wrong With You?? Who Are You?? Kim's mouth dropped and she fought the flight-or-fight urge that all commission salespeople deal with regularly when they sell items that need marital consent. see, i'm an Arts And Crafts style gal...Stickley-ish sort of with a little funk. and all this bedroom set needed was a rifle rack headboard. Gustav would plotz. but i liked it. and the designer's name was Dick Idol, Urban Craftsman. what's not to love? the not-so-new husband was amazed - here he was looking at Oak or Cherry Harden in a display area where people whisper, and I'm going all Annie Get Your Gun on him. but it was done nicely, the furniture was. and well built. and then, just to reassure Kim, we told her the story of The Other Salesperson. complete with the part where she bumped her boob into my husbands arm while describing the carpet swatch color as "Leche." and me being lactose intolerant. and Poor Sad Woman About To Die At Work intolerant. and Kim collects rocks, so she can't possibly be a bad person. the only sad moment was when we thanked Kim for her time and left empty-handed. i don't know if she was more disappointed or relieved. but it was another test passed for the husband and I in 2010. people of opposite tastes in everything, shopping for something, and both coming out alive. and i may call Kim next week to go for a latte or martini. she deserves it. which reminded us of another side-splitting moment that only hindsight can convert. we were at our 2nd marriage counselor, a dweeby little man that is a cartoon of every therapist. he did not ask us about potty training, but almost. and the only thing in life that husband and i agreed on was that we would rather shoot one another than have to endure him one more session. so we kept that night's appointment, out of respect for his time, not ability, and comments and retorts began to fly and my husband accused me of having an affair, whereupon i told the shocked therapist that indeed i was -and at the Very Same Moment, as if rehearsed, we both said "With Donald Rumsfeld." (i had a brief crush on him. so shoot me). and we both became silent, staring at the man as if this was all true and made sense. it was the perfect improv. and honestly, i come from a long line of comedians, but my husband - not so much. although he is a salesman, daily improv is not his forte. at all. and it was certainly a shock to the counselor when, 2 days later, he spied my brother and I walking arm-in-arm across a parking lot from a movie in the middle of the day. but not nearly as shocked as I was to note his movie date was a counselor i had seen one time only (without husband)who i named Sadistic Bitch. she was nasty & aggressive, and clearly should not have been allowed inside people's heads. so there you have it. a day in my life, with surrounding addendums and embellishments. have a great week y'all. L.
at 6:18 PM