Fat Furniture

The colonel and I ventured into a furniture store the other day: He wants to buy a new sofa, and my task was to make sure that he doesn't buy something that will drive me nuts.

We went to one of Our Better Stores (no Levitz for me - and nothing with the word "warehouse" in the title) and observed the available wares. It occured to me that, much like the general populace, furniture is getting bigger - but not necessarily better. We looked at overstuffed sofa after overstuffed sofa - the kind that really would inspire one to become a couch potato. Certain things we agreed on: built-in cup holders are tacky, pull-out leg rests are an abomination, and overly large furniture is for hotel lobbies and people who feel that Monica's apartment on "Friends" is the last word in style. The fact that we were able to get through this little visit to this department without violence says a lot about the dynamics of our relationship.

After what seemed like hours of soul-crushing banality, we did settle on a quasi-mission sort of leather affair that both of us could find nice things to say about. He didn't buy it of course - the colonel approaches this sort of thing cautiously, as one would a particularly dicey elective surgery - but at least we found a common ground. While I would love everything to be held in some sort of stasis circa 1964, I realize that there are people that don't share that view (philistines!) and that one does have to interact with them. Perhaps that's part of my new found maturity.