Last weekend, the
snow was falling in flurries, the roads were wet, the skies were grey – and we
were out looking for a new sofa. Our bit
of Western New York has a dearth of good furniture shops, which is frustrating
to someone used to the cornucopia that is London. Here, all sofas seem to have
curly-wurly arms - you can’t find one with straight arms for love or money.
It’s either that, or it’s overstuffed in brocade with fringes, like a whale in
a French corset. So we set out, not with
much hope of actually finding anything we liked but to get ideas. We’ve been
getting ideas for some months now. “We’re just getting ideas” is the method
hubby uses to fend off the sales personnel who descend like vultures whenever
you enter a Western New York furniture shop.
Our furniture
shopping scenario invariably goes something like this. We stop outside yet
another store, out on some billboard-infested arterial road, eye up the vast
concrete building and look at each other.
“Sure you want to do this?”
“We-ell…not sure”
“Come on, at least we’ll be out of the cold”
So we march
inside, mentally counting the seconds we’re left on our own before the first
vulture circles and dives. No matter how cavernous the store and how far away
he or she is – he or she will spot us. And come striding over with the sort of
gritty determination that won the West.
“Hi Folks, how’re
you doing today?”
“Good – and
yourself”, says hubby well-trained in the drill.
“I’m good. And what brings you folks to our store
today?”
The first time I
heard this question, I thought it was original. The fifth time I realised it
wasn’t. It is a crucial part of every western New York salesman’s training
course.
It’s at this point
– while I wonder idly what would happen if I answered, “Oh, just a spot of
shoplifting” - that hubby says firmly,
“We’re getting ideas”. This sometimes
works; mostly not. The important thing is to keep walking. We once shook an
assistant off but this is rare. Usually,
the vulture quickly metamorphoses into a
bloodhound. “Would that be ideas for anything in particular?” we hear
behind us. How I sometimes miss shopping back home, where you can’t make the
assistant get off the phone so much as to look at you.
We try a spot of
ducking and weaving between the curly-wurly arms, but s/he sticks to our tails,
shifting to a new approach.
“Are you folks familiar with our store?”
I want to say
that I am familiar with their store, not because I’ve been in it before but
because it’s exactly like every other furniture store I’ve ever been to in
America. But I lack the vocabulary.
“Well let me just
tell you that today we have a special promotion …..
my name is
Joe/Bill/Kelly and here’s my card, so just let me know if I can help you.”
This signals a brief
respite and the trick is to use this respite to race around as quickly as
possible, verifying that there is indeed no sofa in the shop that doesn’t have
curly-wurly arms and then finding the most direct route to the exit. If you
hesitate at any piece of furniture, your weakness will immediately be spotted.
Last time, we made the mistake of halting to stare in horrified fascination at
a sofa that incorporated a plush fold-down tray with his-and-hers drinks
holders. In no time at all, we felt heavy breathing and Joe/Bill/Kelly was at
our side. “Now that’s a beautiful piece, folks; I’m not a sharp salesman but
I’ve been in this business for thirty-five years and I can tell you you won’t get
a deal like that anywhere else in New York State.”
“Thank you” said
hubby. “That’s given us lots of ideas.”
