At some point mid-nap I heard Matt's voice say, "Do you feel like going to look at bedroom furniture?" I thought maybe I was in the midst of a wonderful dream, but I opened my eyes and sure enough there was Matt's face, a few inches from mine and staring right back at me.
Well. I shot up off that couch and ran to the closet to get my purse and in all of my excitement I blinked a contact lens right out. As I searched the floor for the missing contact and the medicine cabinet for some eye drops, Matt said, "Don't rush, I'll be a few minutes. I have to go put on my ......." and here is where I naturally assumed he was going to say "shoes" or "jacket."
No. Do you know what he had to put on?
His negotiating pants.
I don't even know what that means.
Actually, I found out what it means when he walked into the bedroom and pulled the jeans that he'd worn to go duck hunting that morning out of the hamper and said, "Be honest, how bad do they smell?"
Since Matt owns only ONE PAIR OF JEANS (I KNOW-we are going to remedy that in the new year) I told him they smelled positively fresh as a daisy because I was not about to let some poorly planned wardrobe situation ruin my chance to get a new bedroom set.
On the drive to the furniture store, Matt, aka the self proclaimed King of Deals, outlined his strategy. When he was all finished he said, "You just have to promise me one thing. That you won't get mad if we walk out because they don't throw in a free box spring. It's all part of my strategy."
And this is the part where I thought it might just be easier to continue sleeping in our low bed.
When we got to the store, an older salesman named Joe greeted us and gave us some information and told us to enjoy our shopping. We looked and looked and looked and finally decided on the set we liked, and Joe came over to check on us. He and Matt discussed bundle pricing and discounts and Matt must have said "Joe" no less than fifty thousand times.
"Joe, could you tell me how much it would be to add the dresser instead of the chest of drawers Joe?"
"Joe, that's great, thanks Joe. Now, Joe, can we talk box springs Joe?"
As Joe walked away to get a price on box springs I whispered, "Can-you-please-stop-saying-Joe-so-much?"
"Just try to go with it," Matt said, "It's a negotiating technique."
Joe came back and gave us the news that a mid-grade queen size box spring would cost $139, but if we did buy it, he would give us 10% off the rest of the furniture. I'm no math whiz but I know 10% off is better than no percent off so just SHOW
However, the King of Deals cramped my style when he said, "WOWEE, ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY NINE DOLLARS, JOE? Joe, I'm going to be honest with you, I have never paid that much for a box spring Joe."
I WANTED TO MELT INTO THE FLOOR AND DISAPPEAR.
Although between my "I just woke up half an hour ago" look and the sad state of Matt's negotiating pants, we probably did look like $139 could make or break us.
Joe laughed nervously and said, "Well, that's actually a pretty good deal for a decent quality box spring. Can I ask you when was the last time you bought one?"
NEVER, JOE. We currently sleep on very low bed that requires only a mattress and no box spring. Which is the very reason we are here this evening.
Because Matt is no easy sell, he told Joe we needed a minute to think things over and we walked back to the easy chair section so Matt could Google the going prices of box springs and I could rock and recline furiously and tell Matt about my plans to stage a coup if he denied that offer. I've been sleeping a mere eight inches off the floor for the better part of a year now. I'd pay TOP DOLLAR for a box spring.
You will never guess how the story ends.
We bought the whole kit and caboodle and it is scheduled to be delivered between 8 am and noon tomorrow so Merry Christmas to me.
And next weekend? We are going jeans shopping. And there will be no haggling.
Even if I have to hide the negotiating pants.