This is a tale of mattress purchases and
duals between men to protect the honor
of a lady's goodnight sleep, a tale about
egos and men in search of sweet dreams,
big commisions and good financing...
It begins on an ordinary summer day
packing the kids in the trusty steed
we call a Windstar minivan and
setting off to run errands, listen
to the radio, roll the windows down,
and feel the wind blow through our hair.
Ahhhh, but life is never THAT simple!
If it had been winter, it would have
ended with a dual writing names in the snow;
and my knight would have won.
He has experience, even knows how
to save a little to dot his "i",
but I'm getting ahead of myself.
At the big-name mattress store
where I won't mention names but
they are supposedly medically-inclined
with very very bad bedside manners,
we were surrounded by an
ocean of Sealys, and it was there
we met a salesman in
desperate need of a nap.
He had short-man syndrome
and a receding hairline.
Two strikes against him.
Add that he was unfamiliar with
my purchase agreement and
the inferiority complex is complete.
We visited briefly on a
comparison-shopping, fact-finding mission,
then my prince escorted my children away,
saying, "Come on. Let's go. There is
nothing else we can do here today."
They were already at the door
when the salesman said angrily,
"WHAT did he say?"
I was startled, half-laughing, "Nothing"
He repeated, "No. HIM. What. did. HE?! say."
I replied, "Ummm, I think he was
talking to the kids" adding a glare.
He charged out from behind the desk,
"I SAID what did he say?!"
By this time, my boyfriend and kids
were on the other side of
the glass storefront moat,
and I told him with an icy calm,
"He was NOT talking to you!"
I walked out into the sunshine
and relayed my sordid tale.
My boyfriend had fire in his eyes
as he handed me the keys,
"Take the kids to the car...
I'll be there in a minute."
He disappeared and came back
a few long minutes later.
We drove in silence.
I didn't dare ask questions.
An hour later, he was calling
to find out the salesmen's manager,
and the story came out...
He approached the sales counter
with the confident stride
of a testosterone filled human
that both thrills and scares me,
and relayed calmly what he
had said to me and why.
He followed with "some advice for you.
I was not talking to you. You were rude,
and from now on, I suggest you
mind your own business..."
At that point, our salesman of the month
turned postal ~ leaped the counter
like some kind of charging bull
and actually (I kid you not)
CHESTED him, then went on to
challenge him to a fight
in the parking lot at 7:30p.m.
when his shift was over...
following up with a,
"We don't need YOUR kind
of business here!"
That final scenario,
and the word "chested"
sends everyone we know into
tears-down-your-face,
doubled over and howling laughter,
followed by an admonishing,
"Can't you two just go
and buy a mattress like everyone else?!"
It had a happy ending though.
Through the management, we
worked out the peas in the mattress deal,
and I have earned my good knight's sleep.
We have a deeper appreciation
after our quest for boxspring knowledge,
and we read the Sunday classifieds
in my new bed and laugh,
"Wanted~professional individual
with sales experience for
well-known mattress store."
