As I was searching for a new office chair last week I discovered a way to make my problems go away that does not involve vegetables, exercise or soy milk.
It would require, however, $1,000 — and that is a problem.
I could only find two places in Logan, Utah, that sold office chairs: One is an office supply store and the other is a giant furniture store.
It was while I was in this giant furniture store that this happened.
I think I’ve probably been in a furniture store before, but I don’t remember ever having this kind of experience. It may be because the salespeople who work in such stores usually focus on getting me out of the store, not sharing with me its secrets.
One of my mild superpowers that I have is the amazing ability to convey, just by my presence alone, that I am the type of person you should ask to go away. It works to my advantage at snowboard shops or other places that sell hip stuff for young slender people. I’ve discovered they will actually pay me to leave such stores. It has something to do with me being able to “destroy their brand,” whatever that means, but that’s a topic for another column.
I was startled to see so much furniture that actually seemed to match. There was a sofa, a chair, a coffee table, a little wire elephant and table lamps that all seemed to go together. And they were all in little clusters with soft lighting as if someone had set up a warehouse for a bunch of homeless wealthy people. It was all so pleasant. It made you want to sit down and read a book by Charles Dickens.
We have always shopped for our furniture at yard sales, and that’s not a relaxing experience. Things don’t match, and if you sit down to take in a particularly comfy piece of furniture, such as an easy chair, someone will come by sooner or later and just shake you out of it as he or she loads it into a pickup truck.
In rare circumstances they will be so caught up in the thrill of the bargain that they will leave you on the furniture and take you home with them. That’s how I met the Fergusons, but that’s fodder for another column.
This time a salesman found me wandering through his furniture store, but instead of being disturbed and frightened, he was quite pleasant. He showed me to the part in the back where the office furniture was and we discovered together that I wasn’t an attorney and the office furniture they sold would not help me.
However, this salesman was full of information. He knew lots of stuff about furniture and poly fabric bicarbonates and wood vansneers. I wanted to know about the living room sets that were all leather. He was quite happy to tell me about how leather furniture outlasts ordinary furniture and how ordinary people had, at times, transformed themselves into extra-ordinary people just by sitting in leather furniture.
I spotted a particularly attractive leather sofa and asked him if I could sit in it. He said "yes," and I’m here to tell you it was amazing. It didn’t squeak. I never knew anything could be so soft and comfortable.
Rather than being alarmed that I was now part of one of his displays he took me to the front of the store and suggested I sit in this leather chair for special people. When I think of expensive leather chairs, I think of fancy gadget chairs that come with a panel of buttons that control the TV, massager things on your back and recliners that have a built-in place for Cheetos.
I’m talking about the real nice ones they let you sit in at the county fair.
This chair had no buttons, but as I sank into it I swear I could hear angels singing. Golden light descended upon me and — now we are to the part you might not believe — I think I felt my troubles just melting away. I never knew such joy and deep peace could exist in a piece of furniture.
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