Recently I drag my friends with me to do a family-related errand. They have no dog in the fight, but they drive me around and even cap off the day with soft-serve ice cream from a seemingly rinky-dink place near their home that actually serves epic product. As a thank-you for their assistance, I tag along while they rug shop.
Before I knew that my new apartment had wall-to-wall carpeting (apparently not one of the updated units), I was rug shopping, too. I remember it as being a not-so-pleasant experience. Either the carpets were the wrong size, or I couldn't order the color I wanted, or it was too heavy for me to carry up the stairs after delivery, or it wouldn't fit in my car . . . Any number of traumatic pitfalls.
In short, I had an idea what they were facing.
And the prices. Holy crap, one would think little elves hooked each and every fiber along with gold dust for good measure. I could take a college course or two for the price of one 8x10 rug. The one and only requirement my friends have: NO GEOMETRIC PATTERNS. Simple enough request. Right?
So, among the several places we search, we stop at an actual carpet specialty store. The salesman is pleasant enough, but he is obviously not listening to my friends. They describe the color schemes they want -- he directs them to every sample except those colors. "Is this one available in green?" GREEN?! Like he hadn't heard them say it two dozen times.
"Let me show you some other ones with patterns and color mixes." Okay, sounds good. Except my friends say, "Sure, but remember -- no geometric patterns."
Well, there is an occasional wavy looking carpet, and occasional stripe, and even some plaid-type patterns, but most of the carpet samples that the guy shows my friends are humongous, gaudy, tacky, room-devouring geometric patterns.
Now, really, if he is that dense, then leave the room for a second and Google the answer. Ask Siri. Ask Alexa. Ask Maxine the cartoon old lady, for crimeny's sake. At this point, at least one of my friends is considering knifing the guy. I just want to smack him upside of his head. Needless to say, this is a NO SALE day for Bozo the Flying Magic Carpet Clown.
I am pleased to say that my friends did find a wonderful rug at a fabulous price at a home store a little while later. Before the ice cream. The ice cream was a treat for finding the prize carpet and for not rolling the earlier salesmen into one of his own products and dumping him among the geometrically shaped rocks behind the store.
