But today, I went furniture shopping.
OH MY GOD I am sick in love with some of the stuff at Carson Pirie Scott's furniture gallery. The Sherrill stuff is really nice. And the Hickory Chair? Is a wet dream.
Also, I am in love with the furniture salesman who took me around and showed me stuff. This guy was opinionated and knowledgeable, naturally he was. He's a salesman. But what was of primary importance, he was a first-class ass kisser. I mean hey, what's with these salesmen who don't kiss the customer's ass? Why do they think I go shopping in a real brick and mortar store in the first place, when you can go crazy shopping on line?
It's the ass-kissing, stupid.
And oh, the possibilities! I wanted a three-cushion, traditional sofa.
But which fabric do I like? The beige damask?
The red jacquard?
Or do I want to go completely mental and get green leather?
So then I came home with all these fabric samples and proceeded to have a lovely time draping them over every square inch of our uncomfortable reupholstered rummage sale love seat. And it turns out my husband and I liked the same fabric. And hated the same stuff, too!
It's kismet. We were meant to be. And I was fated--FATED, I tell you--to spend every dime of his money on new sofas. And side tables. And lamps. And also, I don't know about you, but I'm sick of my window treatments. And the rugs. Do I need new rugs? blackbird, what do you think? (I know you've never seen my house, but I'll do whatever you say.)
And if you like to live vicariously/get big furniture thrills--check out the Hickory Chair website. You can build your own sofa. And yes, there goes the rest of this evening.
