At the wedding reception that has been the topic of this blog the past few days, we got to chat with the groom for a few minutes. We chatted about the lovely facility, about how he was probably now on the blacklist of several people for not having invited them to the wedding, and about how, had the ceremony lasted just 10 minutes longer, he may not have made it through.
"Did you get to see any of the sights around here after the ceremony?" he asked. "I know you don't get to the city very often." He generously did not add "because you guys are pathetic wimps." But he was thinking it.
We assured him that, yes, we had seen a great deal of sights. We did not tell him that most of these sights had been glimpsed from our car, as we drove block after block in an almost futile attempt to locate a safe, legal parking spot that was close enough that we did not have to take a taxi the rest of the way.
But we did manage to park the car, and even had some time left to visit a coffee shop. There was a slight mix-up at the counter, in which the hot chocolate I had ordered somehow became a latte, which I did not order, and by the time I returned to the table I found that my chair had disappeared. In its place was a big gaping hole in the middle of the floor, where the handyman had opened a trap door to reveal a flight of steps into the Great Below. We retreated to a couch in the back of the shop.
I eyed this couch with some trepidation. Coffee shop furniture makes me nervous. It should, in my opinion, be reserved for one's own home. I do not know where such furniture has come from. I do not know what it was doing before it came here. I do not know who has been sitting there. I do not know what they have been doing while they have been sitting there.
With no other options, I perched on the very edge of the couch, determined not to touch one more inch of it than was strictly necessary.
Joe exhibited no such reservations. He sank into the couch, allowing himself to become one with it. Then he frowned. "Do you feel something from this couch?" he asked.
I almost bolted from it. "What?" I said.
"The couch. It's vibrating."
Now, you may recall a previous post about our search for a new sofa, in which we came across one that, the sign promised, would "add a little surprise from the derriere." (If you don't recall, please click here. If you want.) That couch -- a gorgeous leather affair -- had failed to deliver on this promise, yet here was Joe saying that a battered couch, which had seen any number of suspicious individuals using it in who knows how many years, was vibrating. Although I didn't feel anything, it only served to further my belief that coffee houses were to be regarded with suspicion. What kind of place was this? I thought.
At this point I noticed a man coming straight toward us. This, coupled with the possibility that we were sitting on a couch of questionable motives, was too much for me. "There's a guy coming toward us!" I hissed. "A guy's coming toward us! Twelve o'clock!"
Joe, still trying to find the source of the vibration, dug around in the seat cushion. He pulled out an object and aimed it at the guy who had just about reached us. I held my breath.
"Hey," he said to the guy, gesturing with the object. "I think my butt called your phone. Or...your phone called my butt." He handed the cell phone over to the man, who thanked him curtly and left.
"You were sitting on his phone?" I said, sinking back into the cushions in relief, almost forgetting my aversion to coffee house sofas.
"I told you the couch was vibrating." he said.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
And in this corner...
Lest I give the impression that we did not enjoy the wedding we attended last weekend, let me assure you that we did. Not only did we have our choice of delicious entrees at the reception, we also had our choice of scintillating conversation at our table, split basically along gender lines. Our choices were:
Men
Dead bodies
Ladies
Makeup
You can see what a dilemma I personally faced in deciding which of these topics of conversation to follow. For a time I tried to follow both, but when they started to run together and I began hearing things on the relative ease or difficulty of putting makeup on dead people, I decided it was perhaps better to concentrate on eating my dinner.
The topic of dead bodies was started innocently enough by the young man seated to my left, who upon hearing that we live in a historic district claimed an immediately bond with us, on the grounds that he was at present rehabbing an old building in Gettysburg. People who live in old places have this sort of kinship, permanent membership in the Order of Those Who Live in Homes with No Square Walls, and who fight the enemy known as some variation of The Historic Board.
I naturally asked the young man what sort of building he was rehabbing. I imagined it to be something like a bank, a government building, perhaps an old-factory-turned-Haven-for-the-Poor-Huddled-Masses. Even, maybe, a private home.
"It's, um, actually a funeral home," he said.
I suppose this places the blame for the dead body conversation squarely on me, although I'm sure this information would have surfaced some other way even without my intervention.
Yet we still pictured him as the developer of this project. It was several minutes before we realized that he, and his family, owned the funeral home. And operated it.
There are moments in our lives when what we have believed turns out to be completely false, and changes our entire outlook on life. One of these is discovering that Santa is not real. Another is finding out that a young, healthy man of relatively favorable countenance is, by choice, a funeral director.
Of course he had faced the same slack jaws he saw on us at this moment many times before. He hastened to say that he had done several other jobs before settling into the family business. He taught high schools for four years. Almost went into finance with a well-known firm.
This last bit of knowledge was too much for Joe. "You almost went into finance??" he said with incredulity, pained that someone could turn down an incredible opportunity in the field dearest to his own heart for...a career in working with dead people.
This motivated the man to explain his choice. Spurred on by further questions from Joe and another man at the table -- "Do you, like, like dead people?" "Do you love horror movies?" "You really almost went into finance?" -- he assured us that his occupation involved very little actual hands-on time with dead bodies (that is what he called it -- hands-on), which he estimated to be about 5%, and mostly time with families and paperwork.
His date, although showing small signs of distress throughout this conversation, seemed more concerned with the fact that the topic was diverting him from consuming his soup. Failing to communicate to him, by a series of gestures, that he should stop talking and eat, she gave up and commenced taking surreptitious spoonfuls of it herself, in between making contributions to the ladies' topic of conversation, which had begun sometime around when her date had started explaining the intricacies of funeral paperwork.
From his specific situation the man moved into a rather impassioned oratory on death. "This is a death-denying society," he said forcefully. "People don't want to --"
Here he was interrupted by his date, who, desperate to spare us all from a lecture on the cultural views of death, shoved her camera at the young man and insisted that he take a picture of her and her friend next to her, now. When that was accomplished, she insisted that he eat his soup -- or what remained of it -- now.
And the rest of us were left to listen to the merits of Clinique High-Impact Mascara vs. Bare Escentuals Buxom Lash.
Men
Dead bodies
Ladies
Makeup
You can see what a dilemma I personally faced in deciding which of these topics of conversation to follow. For a time I tried to follow both, but when they started to run together and I began hearing things on the relative ease or difficulty of putting makeup on dead people, I decided it was perhaps better to concentrate on eating my dinner.
The topic of dead bodies was started innocently enough by the young man seated to my left, who upon hearing that we live in a historic district claimed an immediately bond with us, on the grounds that he was at present rehabbing an old building in Gettysburg. People who live in old places have this sort of kinship, permanent membership in the Order of Those Who Live in Homes with No Square Walls, and who fight the enemy known as some variation of The Historic Board.
I naturally asked the young man what sort of building he was rehabbing. I imagined it to be something like a bank, a government building, perhaps an old-factory-turned-Haven-for-the-Poor-Huddled-Masses. Even, maybe, a private home.
"It's, um, actually a funeral home," he said.
I suppose this places the blame for the dead body conversation squarely on me, although I'm sure this information would have surfaced some other way even without my intervention.
Yet we still pictured him as the developer of this project. It was several minutes before we realized that he, and his family, owned the funeral home. And operated it.
There are moments in our lives when what we have believed turns out to be completely false, and changes our entire outlook on life. One of these is discovering that Santa is not real. Another is finding out that a young, healthy man of relatively favorable countenance is, by choice, a funeral director.
Of course he had faced the same slack jaws he saw on us at this moment many times before. He hastened to say that he had done several other jobs before settling into the family business. He taught high schools for four years. Almost went into finance with a well-known firm.
This last bit of knowledge was too much for Joe. "You almost went into finance??" he said with incredulity, pained that someone could turn down an incredible opportunity in the field dearest to his own heart for...a career in working with dead people.
This motivated the man to explain his choice. Spurred on by further questions from Joe and another man at the table -- "Do you, like, like dead people?" "Do you love horror movies?" "You really almost went into finance?" -- he assured us that his occupation involved very little actual hands-on time with dead bodies (that is what he called it -- hands-on), which he estimated to be about 5%, and mostly time with families and paperwork.
His date, although showing small signs of distress throughout this conversation, seemed more concerned with the fact that the topic was diverting him from consuming his soup. Failing to communicate to him, by a series of gestures, that he should stop talking and eat, she gave up and commenced taking surreptitious spoonfuls of it herself, in between making contributions to the ladies' topic of conversation, which had begun sometime around when her date had started explaining the intricacies of funeral paperwork.
From his specific situation the man moved into a rather impassioned oratory on death. "This is a death-denying society," he said forcefully. "People don't want to --"
Here he was interrupted by his date, who, desperate to spare us all from a lecture on the cultural views of death, shoved her camera at the young man and insisted that he take a picture of her and her friend next to her, now. When that was accomplished, she insisted that he eat his soup -- or what remained of it -- now.
And the rest of us were left to listen to the merits of Clinique High-Impact Mascara vs. Bare Escentuals Buxom Lash.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
The endurance wedding
There are several new trends in wedding receptions, judging from the ones we have been to recently. One of these is that your dessert -- which now includes a large assortment of items, one of which may or may not be the actual wedding cake -- is held hostage until about midnight, when everyone is either gone or too tired to care. To be served your dessert you must successfully pass an endurance test.
This endurance test consists of, first, several hours of extremely loud noise, which is called "music." Once your ears have exploded from this "music," your eyes are bombarded with the flash from 600 cameras going off the entire course of the evening. The final test is that you are encouraged to drink all the liquid you want, only to find out that the bathroom is a one-stall affair, and you must take a number to get in. Your number is never lower than 600.
As an aside, I personally feel that camera-worthy events, such as weddings, were much nicer when everyone had old-fashioned cameras, and we were limited to 12 or 24 or possibly 36 pictures, and so we were much more judicious about what we took pictures of. But now, thanks to digital camera cards, we are able to capture the entire event for posterity, from the bride and groom smashing cake to the flower arrangements in the ladies' bathroom, and we feel compelled to do so. Even the most average couple is treated like Prince Charles and Lady Di in their day.
Several hours into our endurance test at a reception this past weekend, Joe asked if I was ready to leave.
"We haven't had dessert yet," I reminded him.
Later he asked again. We still had not been served dessert.
"I am not moving," I said. "I was promised creme brulee, and by golly, I am going to have my creme brulee."
"But, honey, everyone's gone. They'll be cleaning up soon."
"How does that affect me? I am permanently blind from all these cameras, my number has yet to come up for the restroom, and I have sat through 36 Prince songs. At least I think they were Prince songs. I think this more than qualifies me to have my creme brulee. In fact, it qualifies me to have everyone else's creme brulee, too."
This endurance test consists of, first, several hours of extremely loud noise, which is called "music." Once your ears have exploded from this "music," your eyes are bombarded with the flash from 600 cameras going off the entire course of the evening. The final test is that you are encouraged to drink all the liquid you want, only to find out that the bathroom is a one-stall affair, and you must take a number to get in. Your number is never lower than 600.
As an aside, I personally feel that camera-worthy events, such as weddings, were much nicer when everyone had old-fashioned cameras, and we were limited to 12 or 24 or possibly 36 pictures, and so we were much more judicious about what we took pictures of. But now, thanks to digital camera cards, we are able to capture the entire event for posterity, from the bride and groom smashing cake to the flower arrangements in the ladies' bathroom, and we feel compelled to do so. Even the most average couple is treated like Prince Charles and Lady Di in their day.
Several hours into our endurance test at a reception this past weekend, Joe asked if I was ready to leave.
"We haven't had dessert yet," I reminded him.
Later he asked again. We still had not been served dessert.
"I am not moving," I said. "I was promised creme brulee, and by golly, I am going to have my creme brulee."
"But, honey, everyone's gone. They'll be cleaning up soon."
"How does that affect me? I am permanently blind from all these cameras, my number has yet to come up for the restroom, and I have sat through 36 Prince songs. At least I think they were Prince songs. I think this more than qualifies me to have my creme brulee. In fact, it qualifies me to have everyone else's creme brulee, too."
Friday, February 20, 2009
Ask the expert
Today we bring you letters from imaginary people on topics that have NOTHING to do with anything the Princess and Gallant Hero are experiencing right now. NOTHING.
Q: My spouse recently decided to go on a gluten-free diet. What can you tell me about this?
A: Mostly what I can tell you is this: Nothing resembling food is allowed on this diet.
Q: It can't be all that bad.
A: You're new to this, aren't you? Gluten, as you no doubt have discovered, is found in wheat, other grains, and every other food you might have an interest in actually eating, so you are pretty much left with: cottage cheese. Although I would check the label even on that to make sure.
Q: What about those gluten-free foods I see advertised?
A: Yes, today you can find a variety of gluten-free foods, such as cereal, bread, and even pasta, which have all been shown, chemically, to be related to petrified tree bark. An alternative would be to try cardboard.
Q: Uh, thanks. Do you know any gluten-free recipes?
A: Oh, yes. You might try the Garbanzo Bean Chocolate Cupcakes recipe I came across recently.
Q: That sounds like you made it up.
A: Unfortunately, I did NOT make it up.
Q: Garbanzo beans? In chocolate cake??
A: Garbanzo beans ARE the new chocolate, dear. At least for you. So get used to it. And good luck! You'll need it.
Q: My spouse recently decided to go on a gluten-free diet. What can you tell me about this?
A: Mostly what I can tell you is this: Nothing resembling food is allowed on this diet.
Q: It can't be all that bad.
A: You're new to this, aren't you? Gluten, as you no doubt have discovered, is found in wheat, other grains, and every other food you might have an interest in actually eating, so you are pretty much left with: cottage cheese. Although I would check the label even on that to make sure.
Q: What about those gluten-free foods I see advertised?
A: Yes, today you can find a variety of gluten-free foods, such as cereal, bread, and even pasta, which have all been shown, chemically, to be related to petrified tree bark. An alternative would be to try cardboard.
Q: Uh, thanks. Do you know any gluten-free recipes?
A: Oh, yes. You might try the Garbanzo Bean Chocolate Cupcakes recipe I came across recently.
Q: That sounds like you made it up.
A: Unfortunately, I did NOT make it up.
Q: Garbanzo beans? In chocolate cake??
A: Garbanzo beans ARE the new chocolate, dear. At least for you. So get used to it. And good luck! You'll need it.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The great sheep discovery
Few people know that coffee was discovered by sheep in Ethiopia in A.D. 850, mainly because the media hadn't been invented yet and so no one thought to interview the sheep, and all we have are the shepherds' word for how things happened, which is a little suspect because that word was "fjeklwecle." This naturally has led to several different interpretations of the events, such as that the year was actually 13,000 B.C., and the location was Arabia, or possibly the Bermuda Triangle.
These differences aside, the basic story of the greatest discovery known to man -- other than two-bathroom households -- remains the same. A bunch of shepherds were hanging out with their sheep, who were standing around engaging in various sheep activities, like standing around, until suddenly one day an angel appeared...
Whoops, wrong sheep story.
What really happened is that the sheep discovered a bush with some small berries on it. Sheep are not real smart, but they knew enough to keep their discovery from the shepherds, because they knew that would be the end of the supply of berries for them.
And for a while they did keep it a secret. The shepherds were too busy playing a primitive game they called "Wii" (the forerunner to our modern "Candy Land") to pay much attention, until one day the shepherds looked up from their game of Wii and made a very technical observation: After eating the berries, the sheep were behaving in a manner that has been variously described as "very lively," "of unusual vitality" and "an abnormally exuberant manner" -- such as skipping, rearing on their hind legs, breakdancing, leaping over tall trees in a single bound, etc.
The shepherds immediately ("after several months") became suspicious, as sheep are generally not known for being lively except at Super Bowl time, and so they investigated by trying the berries themselves. And thus was invented something that forever changed the face of civilization -- the word caper, which means "a leaping or cavorting dance motion."
But sure enough, just as the sheep had predicted, humans started carting off all their berries, leaving them to once again eat grass and stand around. A few enterprising sheep went off to New York to try to sell their story, but as New York hadn't been invented yet either, they eventually came back and stood around with the others. With all the social justice movements we have had in this world, do you ever hear of anyone concerned about sheeps' rights to First Discovery of Coffee Berries? Where are all the groups for "Caffeine for Sheep"? I'm just saying.
Coffee, however, did not become an instant hit. It was thought to be, variously, a food from the gods, or possibly from the devil. It was also some time before anyone thought to make it into a beverage (this is credited to a flock of Wompoo fruit doves in Australia, but we are unable to get into that story here), so mostly people just served the coffee beans with dip.
And the sheep -- well, word is that they got pretty good at playing Candy Land.
These differences aside, the basic story of the greatest discovery known to man -- other than two-bathroom households -- remains the same. A bunch of shepherds were hanging out with their sheep, who were standing around engaging in various sheep activities, like standing around, until suddenly one day an angel appeared...
Whoops, wrong sheep story.
What really happened is that the sheep discovered a bush with some small berries on it. Sheep are not real smart, but they knew enough to keep their discovery from the shepherds, because they knew that would be the end of the supply of berries for them.
And for a while they did keep it a secret. The shepherds were too busy playing a primitive game they called "Wii" (the forerunner to our modern "Candy Land") to pay much attention, until one day the shepherds looked up from their game of Wii and made a very technical observation: After eating the berries, the sheep were behaving in a manner that has been variously described as "very lively," "of unusual vitality" and "an abnormally exuberant manner" -- such as skipping, rearing on their hind legs, breakdancing, leaping over tall trees in a single bound, etc.
The shepherds immediately ("after several months") became suspicious, as sheep are generally not known for being lively except at Super Bowl time, and so they investigated by trying the berries themselves. And thus was invented something that forever changed the face of civilization -- the word caper, which means "a leaping or cavorting dance motion."
But sure enough, just as the sheep had predicted, humans started carting off all their berries, leaving them to once again eat grass and stand around. A few enterprising sheep went off to New York to try to sell their story, but as New York hadn't been invented yet either, they eventually came back and stood around with the others. With all the social justice movements we have had in this world, do you ever hear of anyone concerned about sheeps' rights to First Discovery of Coffee Berries? Where are all the groups for "Caffeine for Sheep"? I'm just saying.
Coffee, however, did not become an instant hit. It was thought to be, variously, a food from the gods, or possibly from the devil. It was also some time before anyone thought to make it into a beverage (this is credited to a flock of Wompoo fruit doves in Australia, but we are unable to get into that story here), so mostly people just served the coffee beans with dip.
And the sheep -- well, word is that they got pretty good at playing Candy Land.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
This e-mail may be monitored
The administration at Joe's company is extremely concerned about company secrets leaking out to the world at large ("Dude! Our new building has a nap room!"). You can see how devastating it would be if news like this got out. Everyone would want to work there. Therefore, managers monitor random employee e-mails to make sure that such sensitive information is not being imparted to outside parties.
So Joe and I are very careful about the topics we discuss through e-mail, and we are sensitive to the fact that Joe's manager, whom we will call Stan (in a break from our usual policy, this is NOT his real name), will be privy to our innermost thoughts. Below are some examples of our sensitive handling of our innermost thoughts on an issue that is vital to our relationship, and one that necessitates frequent communication on our part.
Sweetie,
What do you want to get for dinner tonight? pizza? subs?
Love, Joe
Stan -- Do you have a preference?
Lovey,
Getting tired of subs; maybe we should get pizza for a change.
Love, Holly
P.S. Hey, Stan, how does vegetarian pizza sound?
Sweetie,
Pizza sounds good.
Love, Joe
P.S. I don't think Stan would like vegetarian -- he's on Atkins.
Lovey,
Okay, meat lover's it is.
Love, Holly
P.S. Stan, how's your family?
Sweetie,
Wanna go to the Fantastic Fun Fall Festival after dinner?
Love, Joe
P.S. Stan said he and "Marie" really liked it.
Lovey,
It's been a long week. I'm too tired to go anywhere. Let's just watch a movie tonight.
Love, Holly
P.S. Stan, have you seen "Benjamin Button"?
Sweetie,
Sorry to hear you are tired out. I'M not tired! I "relaxed" in a semi-reclining position in the "relaxation" room today at work. COOL!
Love, Joe
P.S. Don't worry, Stan, no one will guess we're really talking about the nap room. And we really haven't told TOO many -- WHEEP! WHEEP! WHEEP! -- Oh, no, I set off the e-mail alarm! It may be a while til I see you again, Sweetie! I love you!
So Joe and I are very careful about the topics we discuss through e-mail, and we are sensitive to the fact that Joe's manager, whom we will call Stan (in a break from our usual policy, this is NOT his real name), will be privy to our innermost thoughts. Below are some examples of our sensitive handling of our innermost thoughts on an issue that is vital to our relationship, and one that necessitates frequent communication on our part.
Sweetie,
What do you want to get for dinner tonight? pizza? subs?
Love, Joe
Stan -- Do you have a preference?
Lovey,
Getting tired of subs; maybe we should get pizza for a change.
Love, Holly
P.S. Hey, Stan, how does vegetarian pizza sound?
Sweetie,
Pizza sounds good.
Love, Joe
P.S. I don't think Stan would like vegetarian -- he's on Atkins.
Lovey,
Okay, meat lover's it is.
Love, Holly
P.S. Stan, how's your family?
Sweetie,
Wanna go to the Fantastic Fun Fall Festival after dinner?
Love, Joe
P.S. Stan said he and "Marie" really liked it.
Lovey,
It's been a long week. I'm too tired to go anywhere. Let's just watch a movie tonight.
Love, Holly
P.S. Stan, have you seen "Benjamin Button"?
Sweetie,
Sorry to hear you are tired out. I'M not tired! I "relaxed" in a semi-reclining position in the "relaxation" room today at work. COOL!
Love, Joe
P.S. Don't worry, Stan, no one will guess we're really talking about the nap room. And we really haven't told TOO many -- WHEEP! WHEEP! WHEEP! -- Oh, no, I set off the e-mail alarm! It may be a while til I see you again, Sweetie! I love you!
Friday, February 13, 2009
A Valentine quiz
In honor of Valentine's Day, today we present a short quiz about this universally celebrated ("universal" referring to the U.S., Canada, Australia, Mexico, England, and France) holiday. Answers follow, although we make no claim that they are the correct answers.
Valentine's Day Quiz
1. Who gets the most Valentine cards?
a. Wives, girlfriends, other assorted females
b. Pets
c. Cute little Mary Jo in Mrs. Thompson's third-grade class
d. People who send them to themselves
2. Sending Valentine cards became popular during the Civil War. True or false?
a. True
b. False -- people have been sending Valentine cards since the cave days, although back then they didn't have the postal service, so they just sort of hurled the cards through the air
c. False -- it was in the Revolutionary War, because it was considered a revolutionary idea to have men go to the store all by themselves and get cards, flowers, candy, etc.
3. According to English tradition, what happens to the first man a woman sees on Valentine's Day?
a. He dies.
b. He feels a sudden urge to buy flowers.
c. He feels a sudden urge...particularly if this happens first thing in the morning.
4. If 19% of people send flowers for Valentine's Day, and 15% of women send themselves flowers for Valentine's Day, what does this mean?
a. 19% of people send flowers for Valentine's Day, and 15% of women send themselves flowers for Valentine's Day
b. Can you repeat the question without using numbers? They hurt my head.
5. What happens to someone hit by Cupid's arrow?
a. He/she falls in love.
b. He/she contracts measles.
c. He/she makes Cupid very, very sorry.
6. How many Valentine cards does Hallmark carry?
a. 1330+
b. 1330+ for men to give to women, 2 for women to give to men
7. Who sends the most Valentine cards?
a. Men
b. Women
c. Smelly little Bobby in Mrs. Thompson's third-grade class
8. Who sends the most cards on ALL other holidays and special occasions?
a. Men
b. Women
9. Is this fair?
a. No
b. No
Answers to Valentine Quiz
1. The actual answer is teachers, which, if you were reading carefully, is not listed.
2. c, sort of
3. The actual answer is not listed, mainly because I forgot what it was.
4. a, although b is also a perfectly acceptable answer
5. The traditional answer is considered to be a, but this may vary by victim.
6. In my experience, b
7. a, particularly when continually reminded by their sweethearts or persuasive TV and radio ads
8. b
9. a! and b!, at least if you belong to 8b
Valentine's Day Quiz
1. Who gets the most Valentine cards?
a. Wives, girlfriends, other assorted females
b. Pets
c. Cute little Mary Jo in Mrs. Thompson's third-grade class
d. People who send them to themselves
2. Sending Valentine cards became popular during the Civil War. True or false?
a. True
b. False -- people have been sending Valentine cards since the cave days, although back then they didn't have the postal service, so they just sort of hurled the cards through the air
c. False -- it was in the Revolutionary War, because it was considered a revolutionary idea to have men go to the store all by themselves and get cards, flowers, candy, etc.
3. According to English tradition, what happens to the first man a woman sees on Valentine's Day?
a. He dies.
b. He feels a sudden urge to buy flowers.
c. He feels a sudden urge...particularly if this happens first thing in the morning.
4. If 19% of people send flowers for Valentine's Day, and 15% of women send themselves flowers for Valentine's Day, what does this mean?
a. 19% of people send flowers for Valentine's Day, and 15% of women send themselves flowers for Valentine's Day
b. Can you repeat the question without using numbers? They hurt my head.
5. What happens to someone hit by Cupid's arrow?
a. He/she falls in love.
b. He/she contracts measles.
c. He/she makes Cupid very, very sorry.
6. How many Valentine cards does Hallmark carry?
a. 1330+
b. 1330+ for men to give to women, 2 for women to give to men
7. Who sends the most Valentine cards?
a. Men
b. Women
c. Smelly little Bobby in Mrs. Thompson's third-grade class
8. Who sends the most cards on ALL other holidays and special occasions?
a. Men
b. Women
9. Is this fair?
a. No
b. No
Answers to Valentine Quiz
1. The actual answer is teachers, which, if you were reading carefully, is not listed.
2. c, sort of
3. The actual answer is not listed, mainly because I forgot what it was.
4. a, although b is also a perfectly acceptable answer
5. The traditional answer is considered to be a, but this may vary by victim.
6. In my experience, b
7. a, particularly when continually reminded by their sweethearts or persuasive TV and radio ads
8. b
9. a! and b!, at least if you belong to 8b
Thursday, February 12, 2009
The garden: Peaceful haven, or house of horrors?
Spring is right around the corner. To many people, this means reconnecting with the land that has lain fallow during the winter, plunging their hands into the rich, dark earth in their garden and coming up with -- well, I will tell you in a minute what you will come up with. As you prepare your soil, till the land, etc., here are some garden-related facts to encourage you in your work:
Encouraging Fact #1: There are more microorganisms in one spoonful of soil than there are people on earth. Scientific sources disagree somewhat on the exact quantity. Another source says there are more microorganisms in a cubic foot than there are people in China. Yet another uses this quaint wording: "A spoonful of soil can hold a substantial amount of living beings." The exact amounts are insignificant. The important thing is that a writhing mass of bacteria, fungi, protozoa, hyperactive dogs, etc., are at this moment fighting for mastery of your yard. If they can't achieve that, they will settle for Olympic broadcasting rights.
Encouraging Fact #2: There are more than 300,000 different beetles on earth. Based on my own gardening experience, that total of 300,000 may be slightly off by about 500,000. But be assured that most of these armor-clad, steel-strong, jaws-of-death beetles are harmless to people. Except for the ones with tiny little guns and hand grenades.
Encouraging Fact #3: There are more than 2,000 different kinds of spiders in the U.S. With all due respect to spider scientists, I personally feel that this number is grossly underestimated. If you are a spider scientist, and you doubt my personal feeling about this, you are more than welcome to use my yard and my house as a testing ground. You will see that there are way more than 2,000 different kinds of spiders, and that many of them have declared war on females. In fact, I suspect that households with no resident females have way fewer spiders, because guys tend not to be afraid of spiders -- an alternative viewpoint is that guys simply don't see the spiders, any more than they see the bottle of ketchup plain as day in the refrigerator -- and the sole function of spiders is to scare the bejeebies out of someone. But I mention the number of spider types mainly to lead into Encouraging Fact #4, which is...
Encouraging Fact #4: Spiders in the U.S. eat an amount of bugs in one year equal to about as much as all the people on the earth weigh. Although this would seem to be a very Encouraging Fact for gardeners -- given the amount of havoc bugs can wreak among plants -- in my experience most spiders prefer to hang out in the house, where they can create a nice quiet little home for themselves, maybe put on an addition, add a garage for their 2.2 cars, etc. They don't want to go outside into that teeming, writhing mass of bugs and microorganisms any more than you do.
Encouraging Fact #5: A single German cockroach is capable of producing 20,000 offspring a year. Few people are aware that this was the secret to Hitler's army, although some have commented on the similarities in marching style. What it means for your garden is that you better hope these cockroaches cannot swim great distances.
I'm sure you have noticed that all of these encouraging facts have one thing in common: They all happen on earth! And so you might think: I've got to get away from earth! Well, it's not too soon to start planning your escape to, say, another galaxy far, far away. After all, there's nothing scary out there.
Encouraging Fact #1: There are more microorganisms in one spoonful of soil than there are people on earth. Scientific sources disagree somewhat on the exact quantity. Another source says there are more microorganisms in a cubic foot than there are people in China. Yet another uses this quaint wording: "A spoonful of soil can hold a substantial amount of living beings." The exact amounts are insignificant. The important thing is that a writhing mass of bacteria, fungi, protozoa, hyperactive dogs, etc., are at this moment fighting for mastery of your yard. If they can't achieve that, they will settle for Olympic broadcasting rights.
Encouraging Fact #2: There are more than 300,000 different beetles on earth. Based on my own gardening experience, that total of 300,000 may be slightly off by about 500,000. But be assured that most of these armor-clad, steel-strong, jaws-of-death beetles are harmless to people. Except for the ones with tiny little guns and hand grenades.
Encouraging Fact #3: There are more than 2,000 different kinds of spiders in the U.S. With all due respect to spider scientists, I personally feel that this number is grossly underestimated. If you are a spider scientist, and you doubt my personal feeling about this, you are more than welcome to use my yard and my house as a testing ground. You will see that there are way more than 2,000 different kinds of spiders, and that many of them have declared war on females. In fact, I suspect that households with no resident females have way fewer spiders, because guys tend not to be afraid of spiders -- an alternative viewpoint is that guys simply don't see the spiders, any more than they see the bottle of ketchup plain as day in the refrigerator -- and the sole function of spiders is to scare the bejeebies out of someone. But I mention the number of spider types mainly to lead into Encouraging Fact #4, which is...
Encouraging Fact #4: Spiders in the U.S. eat an amount of bugs in one year equal to about as much as all the people on the earth weigh. Although this would seem to be a very Encouraging Fact for gardeners -- given the amount of havoc bugs can wreak among plants -- in my experience most spiders prefer to hang out in the house, where they can create a nice quiet little home for themselves, maybe put on an addition, add a garage for their 2.2 cars, etc. They don't want to go outside into that teeming, writhing mass of bugs and microorganisms any more than you do.
Encouraging Fact #5: A single German cockroach is capable of producing 20,000 offspring a year. Few people are aware that this was the secret to Hitler's army, although some have commented on the similarities in marching style. What it means for your garden is that you better hope these cockroaches cannot swim great distances.
I'm sure you have noticed that all of these encouraging facts have one thing in common: They all happen on earth! And so you might think: I've got to get away from earth! Well, it's not too soon to start planning your escape to, say, another galaxy far, far away. After all, there's nothing scary out there.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Goal zzzzz-etting
I recently allowed myself to be talked into listening to a certain motivational book, one of those popular tomes that basically has about three points to make but takes 563 pages (7 years' listening time) to do so. It is a good thing I am not in charge of editing these things, because they would all be about half a page long, including the title page and index, and instead of enjoying fame and fortune, the authors would all be working normal, everyday jobs like the rest of us.
This is not to say that these books are not helpful. One day Joe asked how things were progressing with my motivational pursuits. "Great," I said. "I've already printed out a positive reminder to keep me motivated." I pointed to the sign above my computer that said Not every day is perfect.
"That's not motivating," he said. "That's depressing."
Motivational Principle #3: Do not allow others to negatively influence you.
"Don't try to negatively influence me!" I said. "To some of us that is a perfectly liberating, motivating idea."
So here, gleaned from the pages of several books of motivational wisdom, is what I've learned so far about self-motivation and achieving one's goals. Maybe they'll help you, too. If so, please send me money.
1. Think of some goals. If you can't think of any, ask someone else who seems to be fairly successful what their goals are. Then ask if they will achieve them for you, too.
2. Remember that your goals should be realistic and attainable, meaning "really, really low." For instance, a good goal to work toward might be Get up every morning. But your goals should also be challenging, such as Get up every morning BEFORE I am due at work.
3. Come up with a mantra and repeat it to yourself throughout the day. In the example we have given, you might tell yourself, "Get up, get up, get up" repeatedly, over and over again, until it puts you to sleep, which puts you in an excellent position to practice your goal of getting up.
4. Surround yourself with people who can help you achieve your goals. Ideally, these would be people who give you large amounts of money on a regular basis. If money is not your goal, and you have started with something more simple, such as getting up every morning, discuss this with your spouse. He or she will probably be all too happy to help you, most likely in the form of some physical assistance.
5. It may be necessary, in the pursuit of your goal, to sacrifice some things that do not help you reach your goal. For instance, to my knowledge there is no correlation between successfully getting out of bed in the morning and doing housework, so why waste your valuable time on cleaning? The same could be said for taking out the trash and many other household tasks. Of course it is necessary to make time for the things that are really important, such as quality time with your spouse, quality time with your kids, quality time with chocolate, quality time with "Lost," etc.
6. The key to reaching your goals is persistence. You must keep trying over and over again, even in the face of failure. In our example, this might mean going to bed numerous times during the day so that you can practice getting up. Reward yourself by staying in bed longer each time.
7. Speaking of rewards, remember to reward yourself for any progress toward your goals. In fact, Joe and I like to reward ourselves before we make any progress toward our goals, just in case no such progress occurs. This could be very discouraging, so it's important to take those rewards whenever you can get them.
8. Don't get discouraged if you don't see much progress. Change sometimes comes slowly, so don't beat yourself over the head if you just can't seem to get up in the mornings. Your boss, or kids, or cat, will be more than happy to do this for you.
This is not to say that these books are not helpful. One day Joe asked how things were progressing with my motivational pursuits. "Great," I said. "I've already printed out a positive reminder to keep me motivated." I pointed to the sign above my computer that said Not every day is perfect.
"That's not motivating," he said. "That's depressing."
Motivational Principle #3: Do not allow others to negatively influence you.
"Don't try to negatively influence me!" I said. "To some of us that is a perfectly liberating, motivating idea."
So here, gleaned from the pages of several books of motivational wisdom, is what I've learned so far about self-motivation and achieving one's goals. Maybe they'll help you, too. If so, please send me money.
1. Think of some goals. If you can't think of any, ask someone else who seems to be fairly successful what their goals are. Then ask if they will achieve them for you, too.
2. Remember that your goals should be realistic and attainable, meaning "really, really low." For instance, a good goal to work toward might be Get up every morning. But your goals should also be challenging, such as Get up every morning BEFORE I am due at work.
3. Come up with a mantra and repeat it to yourself throughout the day. In the example we have given, you might tell yourself, "Get up, get up, get up" repeatedly, over and over again, until it puts you to sleep, which puts you in an excellent position to practice your goal of getting up.
4. Surround yourself with people who can help you achieve your goals. Ideally, these would be people who give you large amounts of money on a regular basis. If money is not your goal, and you have started with something more simple, such as getting up every morning, discuss this with your spouse. He or she will probably be all too happy to help you, most likely in the form of some physical assistance.
5. It may be necessary, in the pursuit of your goal, to sacrifice some things that do not help you reach your goal. For instance, to my knowledge there is no correlation between successfully getting out of bed in the morning and doing housework, so why waste your valuable time on cleaning? The same could be said for taking out the trash and many other household tasks. Of course it is necessary to make time for the things that are really important, such as quality time with your spouse, quality time with your kids, quality time with chocolate, quality time with "Lost," etc.
6. The key to reaching your goals is persistence. You must keep trying over and over again, even in the face of failure. In our example, this might mean going to bed numerous times during the day so that you can practice getting up. Reward yourself by staying in bed longer each time.
7. Speaking of rewards, remember to reward yourself for any progress toward your goals. In fact, Joe and I like to reward ourselves before we make any progress toward our goals, just in case no such progress occurs. This could be very discouraging, so it's important to take those rewards whenever you can get them.
8. Don't get discouraged if you don't see much progress. Change sometimes comes slowly, so don't beat yourself over the head if you just can't seem to get up in the mornings. Your boss, or kids, or cat, will be more than happy to do this for you.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Running with the big -- and little -- guys
Before we present today's post, we wish to share some wisdom that came from Joe immediately upon waking this morning, no doubt imparted through an important dream, and containing information that we would all do well to heed in these troubled days:
"You gotta set it up so the big moose doesn't poop on your head."
He flatly denies this, but I'm thinking that this is maybe how those people who write things like "Who Moved My Gouda" get their start, by uttering bits of wisdom when they are half-awake. So in future days, you might keep your eye out for a bestseller called "Don't Let the Big Moose Poop on Your Head (or Anywhere Else on Your Person"). Of course, you might also look for a little leprechaun at the end of the rainbow.
We turn now from the fascinating subject of moose to the even more fascinating subject of prairie dogs. Let me just say at the outset that, although nothing in my study of prairie dogs would indicate that you should take particular care not to let them poop on your head, it probably is prudent nonetheless.
Prairie dog colonies, which are made up of several holes -- referred to as "coteries" by scientists, but known to the prairie dogs as "frats" -- can extend hundreds of miles, particularly in areas having a scarcity of fast food restaurants. This is because the coteries, although highly developed and consisting of several different rooms, do not contain a kitchen. For eons they did contain a kitchen, but sometime in the last century the prairie dog community was swept by a wave of women's lib, and the women burned out all the kitchens, necessitating the access to fast food places.
However, and this is true, coteries DO have a toilet room and a nursery. From sketches I have seen of the burrows, the toilet room is conveniently located near the main entrance, which I call to the particular attention of planners of restrooms in department stores and other public places: You would do well to heed the wisdom of the prairie dogs, or someday a moose, or an irate customer, might very well you-know-what on your head.
Many coteries together make up a colony, and thousands of prairie dogs may live together in one colony. This sometimes leads to confusion about who is who, and whether another prairie dog one happens to meet lives in one's coterie in Texas, or is in fact from a neighboring coterie in Montana. But fortunately prairie dogs are very advanced, as we have already seen with their placement of bathrooms, and they have developed a sophisticated (and actual) method of identification: They kiss to find out if they live in the same place. This method came about after several other unfortunate attempts to discover this information, some of which involved a moose.
Adolescent prairie dogs, especially males, often take advantage of this ritual of kissing for identification purposes. "Oh, sorry," one may mumble after kissing a particularly cute girl prairie dog. "I thought maybe you were from my burrow." And all his friends snicker, although because prairie dogs do not, technically, snicker, it comes out more as a snort, which definitely does not impress the girls.
Additional evidence of prairie dogs' intelligence is that during the winter, they snuggle down into their burrows and rarely go outside, except to let the pizza delivery guy in. I think we would all do well to follow their example.
And now if you'll excuse me, I must go attempt to ascertain -- following the wise practice of the prairie dogs -- whether the man who has just walked into the room does, in fact, live in the same place I do.
"You gotta set it up so the big moose doesn't poop on your head."
He flatly denies this, but I'm thinking that this is maybe how those people who write things like "Who Moved My Gouda" get their start, by uttering bits of wisdom when they are half-awake. So in future days, you might keep your eye out for a bestseller called "Don't Let the Big Moose Poop on Your Head (or Anywhere Else on Your Person"). Of course, you might also look for a little leprechaun at the end of the rainbow.
We turn now from the fascinating subject of moose to the even more fascinating subject of prairie dogs. Let me just say at the outset that, although nothing in my study of prairie dogs would indicate that you should take particular care not to let them poop on your head, it probably is prudent nonetheless.
Prairie dog colonies, which are made up of several holes -- referred to as "coteries" by scientists, but known to the prairie dogs as "frats" -- can extend hundreds of miles, particularly in areas having a scarcity of fast food restaurants. This is because the coteries, although highly developed and consisting of several different rooms, do not contain a kitchen. For eons they did contain a kitchen, but sometime in the last century the prairie dog community was swept by a wave of women's lib, and the women burned out all the kitchens, necessitating the access to fast food places.
However, and this is true, coteries DO have a toilet room and a nursery. From sketches I have seen of the burrows, the toilet room is conveniently located near the main entrance, which I call to the particular attention of planners of restrooms in department stores and other public places: You would do well to heed the wisdom of the prairie dogs, or someday a moose, or an irate customer, might very well you-know-what on your head.
Many coteries together make up a colony, and thousands of prairie dogs may live together in one colony. This sometimes leads to confusion about who is who, and whether another prairie dog one happens to meet lives in one's coterie in Texas, or is in fact from a neighboring coterie in Montana. But fortunately prairie dogs are very advanced, as we have already seen with their placement of bathrooms, and they have developed a sophisticated (and actual) method of identification: They kiss to find out if they live in the same place. This method came about after several other unfortunate attempts to discover this information, some of which involved a moose.
Adolescent prairie dogs, especially males, often take advantage of this ritual of kissing for identification purposes. "Oh, sorry," one may mumble after kissing a particularly cute girl prairie dog. "I thought maybe you were from my burrow." And all his friends snicker, although because prairie dogs do not, technically, snicker, it comes out more as a snort, which definitely does not impress the girls.
Additional evidence of prairie dogs' intelligence is that during the winter, they snuggle down into their burrows and rarely go outside, except to let the pizza delivery guy in. I think we would all do well to follow their example.
And now if you'll excuse me, I must go attempt to ascertain -- following the wise practice of the prairie dogs -- whether the man who has just walked into the room does, in fact, live in the same place I do.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
This day in history
Today being the Gallant Hero's birthday (specific numbers are so inconsequential, aren't they?), we pause for a few moments to reflect upon other momentous events that have occurred on this day in history, and also upon what specific number the Hero might be.
Unfortunately, there is a remarkable lack of noteworthy events happening on this day in history -- probably owing to some mechanical mishap involving Punxsutawney Phil on Feb. 2 -- but we will do our best to bring you the important events on this day in...
Political History
Some of you may recall our extensive posts last summer on our visits to Mount Vernon, the home of George Washington, and Joe's subsequent infusion of the great man's ideals into his own life. As Joe is probably Mr. Washington's #1 fan, we are pleased to note that on this day in 1783, Mr. Washington was elected as the first president of our nation, beating out several other opponents, although Joe was not one of them.
A few years earlier on this day, in 1454, the Secret Council of the Prussian Federation, acting upon an ill-advised council vote to stop being secret, sent a "formal act of disobedience" to the Grand Master. The Grand Master, although not fluent in Prussian, was pretty fluent in formal acts of disobedience, and took immediate action to ensure that the Secret Council remained secret forever.
Food History
This day is known, in certain circles that do not include me, as National Stuffed Mushroom Day. In accordance with my own observance of Refrain from Eating Foods with Fringe on Them Day (which is celebrated every day), we will not be partaking of mushrooms for Joe's birthday dinner.
Medical History
This date also marks the longest operation in medical history, in Chicago in 1951. This probably comes as somewhat of a surprise to Joe's mother, who no doubt up until this time has believed that the longest medical procedure in history was giving birth to him, although it must have been a relief for her after enduring nine whole months of his clamoring to be let out so he could play with his GI Joes.
??? History
Also on this day, in 1600, occurred the momentous first meeting between Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler. It was momentous because without that first meeting, there never would have been a second one, and you know what that means.* **
*If you do, please let me know.
**It reportedly occurred near Prague, if that helps.
And this concludes our look at historical events of February 4th. You will have noticed that we did not look very hard at how old the Hero is today. The Princess feels it prudent to leave this to your imagination.
Unfortunately, there is a remarkable lack of noteworthy events happening on this day in history -- probably owing to some mechanical mishap involving Punxsutawney Phil on Feb. 2 -- but we will do our best to bring you the important events on this day in...
Political History
Some of you may recall our extensive posts last summer on our visits to Mount Vernon, the home of George Washington, and Joe's subsequent infusion of the great man's ideals into his own life. As Joe is probably Mr. Washington's #1 fan, we are pleased to note that on this day in 1783, Mr. Washington was elected as the first president of our nation, beating out several other opponents, although Joe was not one of them.
A few years earlier on this day, in 1454, the Secret Council of the Prussian Federation, acting upon an ill-advised council vote to stop being secret, sent a "formal act of disobedience" to the Grand Master. The Grand Master, although not fluent in Prussian, was pretty fluent in formal acts of disobedience, and took immediate action to ensure that the Secret Council remained secret forever.
Food History
This day is known, in certain circles that do not include me, as National Stuffed Mushroom Day. In accordance with my own observance of Refrain from Eating Foods with Fringe on Them Day (which is celebrated every day), we will not be partaking of mushrooms for Joe's birthday dinner.
Medical History
This date also marks the longest operation in medical history, in Chicago in 1951. This probably comes as somewhat of a surprise to Joe's mother, who no doubt up until this time has believed that the longest medical procedure in history was giving birth to him, although it must have been a relief for her after enduring nine whole months of his clamoring to be let out so he could play with his GI Joes.
??? History
Also on this day, in 1600, occurred the momentous first meeting between Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler. It was momentous because without that first meeting, there never would have been a second one, and you know what that means.* **
*If you do, please let me know.
**It reportedly occurred near Prague, if that helps.
And this concludes our look at historical events of February 4th. You will have noticed that we did not look very hard at how old the Hero is today. The Princess feels it prudent to leave this to your imagination.
Monday, February 2, 2009
The bears go sofa shopping
It has become apparent, as our entertaining schedules have picked up recently, that we do not possess adequate seating for guests. Although WE don't mind carrying on a conversation while sitting on whatever happens to be handy -- a stepstool, the edge of a desk, the edge of the bathtub, etc. -- guests show some aversion to this. And so this weekend we set out on a quest, like Baby Bear on his search for the perfect chair, porridge, and bed, to try various sofas.
Joe immediately liked Sofa #1, which we had seen on the store's Web site but which was NOT in one of the stores conveniently located within 500 miles of us, and which necessitated a hazard-filled trip on several interstates to a different state. We had many criteria for an acceptable sofa, the primary one -- in addition to being comfortable for guests -- being that it must be big enough to take a nap on. Sofa #1 looked as if it would amply meet this criteria. We did not put it to the test there in the store, although Joe wanted to.
The helpful saleswoman brought us our requested samples, none of which, we were disappointed to note, were leather. We preferred leather, primarily because there were fewer choices in leather. The fabric samples for this particular sofa included every fabric ever invented, and probably a few that had spontaneously evolved.
I laid the swatches she gave us across my leg. The three of us stared, first at the swatches, then at my clothing. All three swatches perfectly matched what I was wearing. Although we did not plan this, it struck us as a helpful tactic should we need to continue shopping for colors. The saleswoman assured us that we could take the samples home and see how they looked in the room. "Or," she said helpfully, "you could just try out your pants and sweater and coat in the room."
In the midst of Joe's waxing eloquent over the sofa's many excellent qualities, I looked at the tag hanging from the side and read the name of the sofa. "Don't get too comfy," I said. "This is not the one we came to see." The numbers on the tag, not surprisingly, also did not match those for the one we had come to look at.
Sofa #2 , which we had come to see, and which on the Web site had appeared small, and cute, and perfect for us, looked, in person, to be small, and cute, and perfect for a couple of fleas to take a nap on, provided their legs were not overly long. We felt like at any moment we could be unceremoniously catapulted from the seat, flung across the aisle, and deposited on the bed opposite us.
We proceeded to another store, where the sign for Sofa #3 proclaimed that "the flared back legs add a little surprise from the derrière." This sounded promising. Moreover, this sofa was in leather. We sat down.
Joe shifted a bit and then frowned. "Do you feel a little surprise from the derrière?"
I admitted I did not, and we discreetly positioned our derrières on different areas of the sofa in an effort to discover this surprise. After several minutes of effort, and still feeling nothing out of the ordinary, we gathered our uncooperative derrières and moved on. If a surprise was to be discovered, it would have to be by more sensitive derrières than we apparently possessed.
But we have not entirely crossed this sofa off our list. We figure if we have guests, and the conversation is flagging, we can ask them if they feel a little surprise from the derrière.
Joe immediately liked Sofa #1, which we had seen on the store's Web site but which was NOT in one of the stores conveniently located within 500 miles of us, and which necessitated a hazard-filled trip on several interstates to a different state. We had many criteria for an acceptable sofa, the primary one -- in addition to being comfortable for guests -- being that it must be big enough to take a nap on. Sofa #1 looked as if it would amply meet this criteria. We did not put it to the test there in the store, although Joe wanted to.
The helpful saleswoman brought us our requested samples, none of which, we were disappointed to note, were leather. We preferred leather, primarily because there were fewer choices in leather. The fabric samples for this particular sofa included every fabric ever invented, and probably a few that had spontaneously evolved.
I laid the swatches she gave us across my leg. The three of us stared, first at the swatches, then at my clothing. All three swatches perfectly matched what I was wearing. Although we did not plan this, it struck us as a helpful tactic should we need to continue shopping for colors. The saleswoman assured us that we could take the samples home and see how they looked in the room. "Or," she said helpfully, "you could just try out your pants and sweater and coat in the room."
In the midst of Joe's waxing eloquent over the sofa's many excellent qualities, I looked at the tag hanging from the side and read the name of the sofa. "Don't get too comfy," I said. "This is not the one we came to see." The numbers on the tag, not surprisingly, also did not match those for the one we had come to look at.
Sofa #2 , which we had come to see, and which on the Web site had appeared small, and cute, and perfect for us, looked, in person, to be small, and cute, and perfect for a couple of fleas to take a nap on, provided their legs were not overly long. We felt like at any moment we could be unceremoniously catapulted from the seat, flung across the aisle, and deposited on the bed opposite us.
We proceeded to another store, where the sign for Sofa #3 proclaimed that "the flared back legs add a little surprise from the derrière." This sounded promising. Moreover, this sofa was in leather. We sat down.
Joe shifted a bit and then frowned. "Do you feel a little surprise from the derrière?"
I admitted I did not, and we discreetly positioned our derrières on different areas of the sofa in an effort to discover this surprise. After several minutes of effort, and still feeling nothing out of the ordinary, we gathered our uncooperative derrières and moved on. If a surprise was to be discovered, it would have to be by more sensitive derrières than we apparently possessed.
But we have not entirely crossed this sofa off our list. We figure if we have guests, and the conversation is flagging, we can ask them if they feel a little surprise from the derrière.
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