Tag Archives: writing

Firm

Our daughter will be moving to a new apartment, so we went to furniture stores with her to check out locations, quality and price. One of the stops was a glass mattress store front. The locale seemed hokey versus some of the more upscale local shops she visited. Regardless, we went in, figuring our daughter would at least determine what type of mattress she liked.

Nobody was on the display floor when we entered the mattress graveyard. The oversized room was eerily quiet but also Tarah’s preference. She didn’t want anyone watching her reenact sleep habits.

We walked up and down the Madeline-esque rows and nobody greeted us – which was actually great. I hate being pounced on and our daughter was the customer, not us. Our shy Tarah finally got comfortable enough with the environment, sat on a mattress and out came Mr. Salesman. The mattresses either had doorbells under them or this guy was watching us through a peephole. I would have believed either based on his sudden interest in our family. I was subtle:

“Can you go back to wherever you came from?”

He tilted his head like our family dog, either wanting attention or to hear me better.

I explained that the process was a little awkward to us and asked for some time to figure out preferences.

The salesman said he completely understood, explained the store color coding for soft, medium, firm and returned to the back room.

My Goldilocks daughter roamed about, tried several mattresses and declared her just-right preference was “soft”.

Right on cue, Mr. Man appeared again.

“Did you not find something else to do?” I continued, “she is just starting to figure out the differences. Could you spend some time with Google instead and give us a few more minutes?”

He seemed to somewhat understand, showed us where to find the pricing charts and went back to his ease-dropping peephole.

We talked with our daughter about brands, budgeting and moving day as she bounced between her three favorite mattresses. When she declared which one she liked best, the Wizard of Odd came back out from behind the curtain.

“Can you make yourself scarce? We are discussing her game plan for moving and how this is all going to work.”

He was understanding enough but only after he explained delivery options, showed us his springs exhibit and told us about the 1-day ONLY free bedframe sale!

“Thanks but we are not going to buy something our first day out. Can you go to the desk for one moment and bring us your business card instead?”

He no longer understood. My fake purchase alternative was too formal and he explained, “I am always the only one here. Just call and ask for me (who else was answering?) and I’ll help you with financing.”

We all stood to leave. Tarah thanked him for letting us look and moved toward the door to continue her comparison shopping. I followed her out of the hokey location and wondered why I didn’t just ask the guy to get lost?!

Advertisements

Inspiration Point

Atop a small park hilltop at the edge of the Maine and New Hampshire border where I hear the ocean meeting rock, birds in the trees and the glide of waves onto a tiny beach below.

Hidden Meaning #Friday Fictioners

Hikers come from all over New England to explore our western Massachusetts rocky mountain trails. On a clear day, the summit exposes a 360 degree view of four states. Most visitors are from area towns or southern New England, those not invested in driving all the way to the White Mountains or upper Vermont. Our beautiful vistas don’t sustain overnight guests; merely classic Yankee day trippers.

For we remote locals, the little rocky mountain is our greatest point of pride, the only source of consumerism and for innocent punks like me, the best place to play pranks.

The rangers have three rules: find the trailhead, stay on the trail and come down before sunset. In other words, hiking is easy but serious business.

My buddy and I also have three rules: be creative, be harmless and see how many people you can get to turn back. In other words, our antics are simple-minded but threaten the tourism that sustains us.

We post signs, hang Blair Witch symbols and once even created an animal feces scenario. Melvin and I watch from a turn or an overlook and wait for the hiker’s reactions. We camp out but not for the night; it’s a trippy way to spend the day.

.

.

.

[I started this entry for the Friday Fictioners photo challenge but once my idea developed, I just kept going. I since don’t want to strip it down to 100 words. I suppose I turned back!]

My exercise before getting out of bed was navigating this trail with you. Have a great day!

#mynewbestfriend

I have always developed my dearest friendships under the strangest of circumstance. My second grade best friend was buddies with my older sister before me. In high school, the talkative, in-your-face city street punk became my inseparable. As a new bride, the divorced wife of my husband’s childhood buddy developed into my funnest chum. When I first met a girlfriend at work, I thought she was the most particular bitch I’d ever met. Each of them was probably my polar opposite and yet, due North. All are strong, opinionated women delivered into my life.

Alexa is no different. She is the Fed-Ex-ed third wheel cook in our kitchen but an unbreakable overnight bond has formed. Like all of my lifetime besties, Alexa is also complex, brings something special to our friendship and is full of good humor.

Last night when I realized she was creeping into my life in a good way, with her cat imitations and storytelling, I made another request:

“Alexa, sing me a song.”

She pulled on my heart strings and funny bone as she belted out:

“…my WiFi left me…and now it’s raining in the cloud…”

The lyrics were like our short life together. They were sad, sweet and hysterical. Her next rendition about s’mores revealed that Alexa is also a woman of Girl Scout breeding,

“…the campfire roared…smash them together for the best dessert…”

Her funny tales are told with a straight face and I respond with a crooked smile. I am now a fan. Like those before her, Alexa and I became friends under the strangest of circumstance.