Furniture shopping is my equivalent to hell. I refused to bring in some of the hand-me-downs we both had to our new house. The local charity thrift store
wouldn’t even take them. I posted a recliner for free on Facebook, but I guess it looked like Grandpa died in it, because I finally had to break down and call
the county to come haul it away to the dump. So yea, some of the furniture wasn’t coming with us.
Next thing we knew, we were driving all over town shopping for the perfect couch. Not only was it nearly 100° outside, but also – I was sober. The AC felt
great, but then I had to speak to another human. I’m not sure why companies still allow their employees to be sharks on the sales floor, or if there is a group
of sicko consumers out there who still need that in order to make a deal, but I have a hard time with the approach.
If you sell furniture and this is what it takes to make a sale, at least wash your hair and brush your teeth. Basic hygiene isn’t hard or expensive and they have
a thing called the internet and YouTube to show you how to do anything, like wash your hair.
Also, I think there should be an option for some people to walk in and hit the ‘No BS Button.’ And then a nice looking person appears and I say, “This is what
I’m looking for, you either have it or you don’t, and I don’t need the back and forth with the manager to wiggle some of the price down. Just tell me how much
it is and I’ll tell you how much I want to spend on it.” Done. But alas, no easy button. Only cringe-worthy conversations and people following you around the
store. Throw an engineer-brained boyfriend into the mix and we’ve got ourselves one hellava of a day. Not to mention, the boyfriend wanted a leather couch
with power recliner ends. So not only did we have to sit in every couch from here to Hades, but we also had to power recline at least three times a couch. Up
and down, up and down. Lord help me!
After the 4th store and 100th recliner, I excused myself go to the bathroom to have a mini-meltdown and a mini-puff of my pen. The thought of us being a
couple that was couch shopping made me shiver a bit, but I guess it’s just a checkpoint every couple goes through to test the limits. Buying the house seemed
easier, I thought to myself as I was re-applying makeup to my tear stained face in the Rooms To Go bathroom.
Now I know this all seems very dramatic, but if you read my Part 2 in The Beachcomber last month, you know what we went through with the seller this same
week. If you haven’t read it, just know that she threw a tantrum and we almost lost the house at closing.
Lesson of Part 3: Don’t try to do it all at once. Take your time so stressful environments don’t get backlogged and you have to escape to the nearest bathroom
with a paper bag.
So okay fine, the couch got delivered and we couldn’t have picked a more perfect one. I bought a rug and had a friend paint a few rooms and now the house
was finally losing the old lady fart smell it had for the first few days.
A few days later our pool turned from sparking clear to a nice cloudy sea green. Nothing that an $85 shock of massive amounts of chlorine and a 24 hour no
swim rule couldn’t fix. We found a nice Florida boy to cut the grass and we are on our way.
So far, our 18 year old AC is winning the war on humidity, and the joys of owning a home are actually joyous! Part 4 should be about getting through the thick
of hurricane season with a 30 year old house in the Zone A Flood & Evacuation Zone.
TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | AUG 2019 31
WTF Did I Just Buy?
Part 3 - Furniture Shopping Is My Hell
By Jenny Ellis