Saturday, July 13th, 2013

We bought a sofa sleeper yesterday evening from a salesperson who wouldn’t take “yes” for an answer.

We already knew what we wanted because we’d stopped by the same store the day before, talked to a different salesperson, looked at catalogs, sat on a couple of display models, then went home and, after measuring the space where the sofa sleeper would go to make sure we weren’t buying something that was one inch too wide, narrowed our choices down to two models and drove back to the store the next day to put in an order.

Some salespersons can tell when your mind’s already made up. The smart ones will just whip out the papers, show you where to sign and let you go because they know better than to spoil an easy sale.

Then there are the salespersons who can see that your mind’s made up but feel they’re not doing their job if they don’t whip out their little song and dance routine anyway. Weirdest episode with a salesperson I’ve experienced: We were shopping for cars, decided that the Ford Escort LX station wagon was the car for us, even knew the size of the engine and the color we wanted. Went to a dealership and told the first salesman who pounced on us exactly what we were looking for. He wanted us to take a test drive. Informing him that we’d already taken several test drives and repeating exactly what we wanted, color and all, he listened with some impatience before insisting that we should take one on a test drive. In a friendly yet firm tone we said yet again that we’d already been on a test drive. We were there to buy one. Now. That’s when he turned and, saying something like, “Well, if you don’t want to take a test drive, then I don’t know why I’m even talking to you,” he walked away from us. I swear on my mother’s life I am not making that up.

Finally, there are salespeople who cannot tell that your mind is made up and plow ahead with their sales pitch no matter how bluntly you tell them to just sell us the damned thing already. That was the salesperson we got last night. When we showed her the sofa we wanted to buy, she couldn’t stop talking about some other customer who loved that sofa so much, the styles the other customer looked at before settling on one, the fabrics the other customer looked at and what she finally ordered, blah blah blah etc etc etc oh my effing god she just wouldn’t shut up about that other customer. And when she ran off once to see if the other customer’s sofa had arrived in the warehouse, I very nearly asked for the manager.

So it took a little while to drag her over to the customer service counter where we could look at fabrics. That went on for about twice as long as it should have, too, because she had to trot out a bunch of the color swatches that the other customer looked over, and the salesperson had to throw in her own suggestions to boot. My Darling B played along for a bit. I’m boring, or have no imagination at all when it comes to furniture. Sofas, to me, should be one overall color, preferably dark to hide the popcorn butter stains that we’ll inevitably leave in the middle of it. I pointed at a neutral gray swatch and stood by my choice throughout the fabric selection ordeal. Oddly, that’s what we ended up getting.

And that was it. We were done. The salesperson seemed to want to talk about it a little bit more, but we didn’t, so she got out a ticket and wrote it up, pausing occasionally to point out that we could get the feet stained a different color, for instance. Nope. The standard dark stain on the feet will do just fine, thank you. When we got to that point, we got out of there without too much more trouble, even though she tried to sell us something else on the way out. We finally escaped by gnawing our own legs off.

sleeper | 12:14 pm CST
Category: daily drivel, Our Humble O'Bode, story time
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