Being a mattress salesman would be weird. Couples come into your store, er, warehouse looking for a place to sleep, have sex, or widdle away their insomnia.
Mitch and I bought a mattress. Our salesman, Mick, was in his sixties and had bad teeth and lots of hair. Mitch told him we wanted a queen and he said it looked like Mitch already had a queen, meaning me. I didn’t tell him that “Queen” is a term for a flamboyant or bitchy gay man, and that I hoped Mitch did not, in fact, have one.
I spent the rest of the shopping time lying on different beds. Trying them out on my side, on my back, “Oh! a stomach sleeper." He stood over us and talked away. He told us about how great marriage was. “My wife turned me into a good man. I mean, I was a pretty great guy before, but it’s because of her that I’m a good man.” And he plunked down next to us on one mattress to show the lack of over-all bounciness.
“Honey (that’s me apparently), make sure you try out your side of the bed.” If you’d like to know, Mitch and I don’t have sides of the bed. We’re a modern couple. But I thought, really Mick? Of course! People don’t come to a mattress store looking for a mattress. They’re looking for a side of the mattress. It’s quite convenient buying a mattress with another person. Kind of wasteful buying a bed with two sides for just one person. This must be the reason people get married.
I vow to join my side of the mattress to your side of the mattress. We will split the cost of box springs.
We bought a mattress, “Vera Wang for Serta.” I’m not sure how much designing Vera had to do for it. It’s rectangular, padded, white. Not at all what I expect from high fashion.
The most expensive mattresses had rhinestones all over them.
We wanted to pay over a year same as cash, but Wells Fargo denied our application for a card. Right there in front of Mick. (“It’s ok, honey.”) Mitch was also saying “lovely” a lot, like a younger Jerry Sitser.
It is ok, honey. Nothing really mattress.