Furniture Shopping

I love my wife. I love spending time with her. We may have a lot of differences but for the most part we get along pretty well. There is one activity however, that when we do it together, will test the limits of my sanity and patience. That activity is furniture shopping.

I admit I have zero sense when it comes to style. When I was single I bought a couch from Sears and a love seat from Montgomery Wards that were cheap and screamed single man. They were comfortable as hell but, I will admit were kind of ugly. The couch had bright blue and white stripes. It also had a sleeper inside of it. It was big and bulky but it got the job done. As soon as we bought our house, my wife relegated it to the trash bin where it was garbage picked.

I worked a great deal to get my love seat. I had a $50 dollar gift certificate to Monkey Wards. So, I went there and found this love seat that was on clearance. It was half off the original price of $300. So, I got it for basically $100. It was also blue and white. It was not much to look at, but it got the job done. I was actually able to move it to the house with Joyce for a short time but, we soon got rid of it when I gave it to my friend, Mike.

Most of the furniture in our house Joyce picked out. I really don’t care what kind of a couch we have. I trust her judgment completely. My only concern is cost. I admit I am a bit of a cheapskate when it comes to furniture. Joyce has valid points when it comes to durability, but I always maintain just because something costs more doesn’t mean it is better.

Well, Joyce wants a new couch for our downstairs. Her plan would involve moving the couch we have down there now, upstairs in the family room. The couch we have in the family room currently, we inherited from my Mom and has seen better days. So, she asked if I wanted to accompany her to the Macy’s Furniture Outlet in Oakbrook on Tuesday.

In reality I know I did not have a choice in the matter. She was going and considering all she has done for me, if she wanted me to go with her, I had to go. Going to a furniture store ranks right below having a foreign object inserted into my anal cavity. I hate everything about it. First, are the salesmen. If there is one order of being worse then car salesmen, it is a furniture salesmen. Imagine having to spend your day trying to convince people of the comfort and look of a recliner.

Then there is the vastness of it. There is furniture as far as the eye can see. You sit down in enough of them and they all become a blur. The reason we argue when we go is simple. I see something, I like it and it is in our price rage, and I am sold. Joyce has to look at every stick of furniture in the store. Then she will want to go to five different stores just to make sure that we are getting the best deal.

To me, if I like something, I like it. Really you could translate this to any kind of shopping. When we go to Jewel, if we need tea, I head over and put some in the cart. Joyce, will look at the back of the labels and compare ingredients and shit. Thus, when I go shopping with her it takes me almost twice as long. I am not saying my way is better or worse then hers, just different. When we go shopping for a big ticket item our differences get highlighted.

So, when we ventured over to Macy’s on New Years Day, I knew we were doomed. After walking around for what seemed like a month we found a leather L-shaped couch that would perfectly match our basement. It was on sale and Macy’s was offering free delivery. Still, Joyce wasn’t sure. The pushy salesmen came in for the kill, and after some humming and hawing “we” decided to sleep on it. We almost came to blows a couple of times at the store but got out of there relatively argument free.

So, we still have not bought a couch yet. I am going to watch football on Saturday so, Joyce is going to try to talk her sister into going to Macy’s with her then, to get another perspective. All I know, is I am glad I don’t have to go back with Joyce. As much as I love her, if I had to go looking at sofas again I might blow an O ring.