Stay with me, this is interesting, I've gotten you this far with the "O" word, you'll appreciate the ending. I'm really asking this question to the men in the blogosphere; because I do know the answer for the women out there.
Ok, I'm getting there: For the past week, I've been between a fog and fetal position of bed and breakfast at the infusion center for nutrition; so my humor and sarcasm are just, ahem, flowing, for better words. Aren't you glad you stopped by? Right the orgasm.
Yesterday, Frank and I stopped by the new furniture store in the hood: American Signature Furniture. Well, let me tell you, I was like a kid in a freaking candy store.
It started in the parking lot. I'm rambling today because that is where my brain is; it's in bits-and-pieces. Bear with me. We pulled up next to my next car wanna-be, the Cadillac CTS, the first purrrrr.
I hear, "Come on, Deb, I don't want to be here all day."
Really, since when was the day about him anyway, was my thought. To which, I DID address the situation.
"Were you NOT complaining how bored you were? AND how tired you were of just sitting around the house all week? Well, now you're not!" And with that, I gave him a big smile, and I sloppily dragged my feet toward the very large doors.
And that is where I noticed the first set of oversized chocolate brown velvety two-story, floor-to-ceiling paneled drapes. We hadn't. made. it. in. the.door yet. He was in for it. He knew it, I knew it. I seriously didn't feel up to it physically, but something in me was burning for this place. I had to keep going.
He opened the door, and in we went. (Sound the herald of angels please, or something symphonic, Ian)
More ceiling-to-floor panels; these were white and whispy, something of a spring day. Soft and yet cool enough to keep the darkness at bay. Bright, too bright for me, but still very beautiful. Yes, boys, I know, they were just curtains to you, but to us, it's something very different. Isn't it?
I looked out at the great expanse of wood and canvas; the scent of leather enveloped me, I was in ecstacy, ladies. I felt like death was truly warming over my bones, under my skin, but I tell you, the colors on the partial walls, the fabrics, the decorating - I wanted to dance.
My legs were jello. Mostly from, well sort of a toss-us up here; drugs/fetal position- drugs/fetal position? Hmmm, scales are out on this.
I didn't know where to begin the walk through the place. There were salespeople ALL. OVER. THE. PLACE. Seriously. They were everywhere. How obnoxious can it get, right? No problem, I can handle myself, seriously. No, really I can handle myself. Not handle handle eww.
So, we continue to "OOhh," and "Aaww" through the place. I must say that the web site does not do it justice. You simply must visit the store. I'm planning to go back. Soon. Real soon. Like today I may be in the area actually, Cinderisa has a dentist appointment nearby and if I'm feeling perky enough...... as if.
I stumble, (literally) into a beautiful dark brown and very weathered leather club chair. To which, I just happen to slink into. No, I melted into it; and then I just randomly called out for Frank, cuz he was nowhere to be found.
"Frank! Frank! Where are you? Frank?"
He finds me. He wasn't impressed with the chair. His body-type is, well bigger than mine. I can fit into the children's clothing department, with no problem, and without tailoring, and for a much better price and FIT. We move on.
He finds a gorgeous persimmon and paisley chaise lounge, which he dives into. And growls, "OOhh, yeah, get me a cigar!! Now this is what I'm talking about! Try this, Deb."
He was right, positively correct. I curled up like a cat, into a wee little ball. All I needed was a blankie. Perfect.
Then I told him, "I want a job here!" And the next saleswoman who came up to us (which was approximately every 31/2 minutes) , I inquired as much.
"Are you hiring? I've never worked in retail, but I love to decorate, and I absolutely love this place!" Not to mention, they claim that their furniture is all wood, no venere, AND all made IN America! Salute!!
stumbling walking, ignoring her as she was telling me something about the manager, blah, being away blah for the day, like I can work anyblahway. In my condition. Blah blah blah blah blah blaha blahbilibitbitbbbirty blah. But for yesterday, that was where I wanted to work. Because, it was very eye candy pretty. And I can so see myself helping people make their homes all nice and stuff. I've done it for my friends and family, why not?
Back to my little orgasm boys, I know, you're waiting! Frank has so much fun when we go out - it's great to be able to open my mouth and not get into trouble. I am so sure I've left many a head shaking in wonder, like yesterday, for example, which is where this little post is bringing me.
So as we were coming down yet ANOTHER aisle of wonderment and newness of design, this rather dashing 30 something gentleman salesperson (gee, has it been 3 1/2 minutes already?) comes along and says to me; "And how are WE (wait, WE?? like we are an item, HMMMMM!) doing today?"
And this is where I got him where he just wasn't looking; and girls, by the way, not only does this totally stop ALL sales persons in the store for the entire day from bothering you, but you AND your man will pretty much have free reign of the place, gaurantee.
"I am having an ORGASM from the contents in this place, I love it so much." And I just kept going.
He was completely, yeah, I know, come on get back on your chair Jeff, completly dumbfounded, he seriously choked, shook his head and smiled. And Frank said to him,
"Do you want to talk to her some more?"
Girls, do you NOT agree with me, that sometimes, sometimes, shopping can truly be an orgasmic, euphoric experience? Whether it be that little Italian piece of leather strapped to your foot. Or the one you're sitting in at the light; maybe it's not Italian, but your style is German or Swedish or American, (hey Frank works for Chrysler and we're talking strike, like literally with GM, right now). Maybe your dream is that that CTS with the French-stitched interior accents.
Here's the question; "when you turn your car on, does it return the favor??" I love that!!
Ok, so I drive a Dodge Grand Caravan, it's not happening for me! At least it turns on. AND my car was assembled in an American plant, with American employees. That worked hard for their American dollars. We'll see what America does for them now.
Feel better. Watch the Hill tomorrow. Headache on the Hill.
I hope you enjoyed your "Shopping Experience." Next time you're out, remember this line, and seriously TRY it. Let me know how it works.
Maybe it's the drugs working; but I doubt it; I'm mostly this weird.