Crate and Barrel.
That’s where I was for a good part of my day. The store that has every ice cream scoop you could imagine as well as very expensive sofas. And, don’t forget the aprons, purses, and the Every Recipe A Man Should Know book.
I wasn’t here by choice, mind you.
My mother wanted me to go with her, so I obliged. I swear, my mother should have been a designer. She’s always remarking about colors, types of floors, how the walls could be extended… really. She needs to get a degree in this now.
But, as we were finally on the second floor (after an hour) she ran to a sofa she liked. She’s been wanting to buy a new one for months.
And, then, I see it happen.
A man, with a name tag, smiles at her. Yes. A Salesman is on his way over to try to get my mother to spend money on this couch.
My mother had been admiring a painting above the couch, on the wall.
“Isn’t that print beautiful?”, says the Salesman. His voice is higher than most, and it is awfully piercing.
“Yes, I love the colors,” says my mother.
I quickly pretend to be looking over a dining room table, hoping the Salesman doesn’t ask me what I think about it.
“So, this couch is on sale,” he says, as he rubs the leather with his hand.
“Oh, really? What are the other color choices?”
The Salesman had a quick look of surprise flash across his face, but he recovered. ” Let me go print off some information for you.” He said, running off as if he’d lose the sale.
He came back, with colors, designs, and his business card.
Now, the man attempted to engage my mother in conversation. So much, that she began to grow annoyed. But, she kept it pretty well hidden, nodding her head and saying, “Oh?” a lot.
Finally, he got the hint and told us if we had any more questions to give him a call and off he went.
And so, that was my day, at Crate and Barrel.