Wifey decided we need two new pieces in the living room and one in the office.
We have matching alcoves in the living room. Right now the contents of the two do not "match" well enough for the little red-headed woman. This has been bothering her for months.
In the office, she hates the sight of cables and cords. She wants the modem, wireless gateway, two computers, a MFM, her shredder, and something else to be in the office without the sight of cords. I told her that only God could accomplish that.
Off we go.
First stop, Nebraska Furniture Mart, The Colony, TX. It is the largest furniture store in North America. We get there 30 minutes after opening. People are already flooding in. They expect nearly a billion dollars in sales the first year. It just opened in April.
It's huge. It is also about as charming as a Sam's Club. Looks better, but there is so much.
Guidelines: the pieces must match. This was later revised to something completely different. Also, we need a low table for the office.
Short story: The only piece of furniture I like in the entire fucking store does not match her parameters. After two hours we leave. She tries to take me home which means she is pissed at me, but I talk her into continue our crusade because it wil hurt less than having her miffed at me for 24 hours.
We go across the street to a Rooms to Go. It is also big, uncrowded, and lacking in what we want.
She takes me to Saltgrass Steakhouse because I am hungry and cranky. Takes a bit more than a hour. Best part of the trip.
We leave and it begins to rain Biblically. Next we head to a privately-owned furniture store and spend another 1.5 hours. I pick out a table which she does not like. She will later buy one that is nearly identical but has a better color of which she earlier said didn't really matter.
She will later find a non-matching bookcase for one of the two alcoves and decide that the piece of furniture that I liked so much at Nebraska is just what she is wanting. They do not match in size, color, or function. "How does this match," I ask. "I will put something tall on the shorter one and that will make them match in height," she replies. Sumerian language is easier to decifer than this woman.
I end up having to call NFM, find the salesman, confirm it is in stock and buy it over the phone.
It was worse that shopping for shoes.
When we got home I ordered a parts kit from PSA to salve my wounds.