Bruce and I arrived in Seattle and quickly realized we needed a dining room table for our fabulous little rental home in our new city. We had to leave the old set behind because either it was a piece of shit that I may or may not have made even shittier by repainting or because we couldn’t fit it in the moving truck what with my cocktail supplies and porno collection taking up so much room. Just kidding. I don’t drink.
Yes I do.
Anyway, being in a new city, we didn’t know where anything was. So we decided to just keep a lookout for something like a discount furniture store or even a cool thrift store that had “gently used” goods while we were out and about doing what people that are new to a city do.
While cruising up Aurora Avenue one day, Bruce says, “We need someplace that looks like it should be called ‘Crazy Larry’s Discount Furniture Emporium’. It needs to be a legitimate store that has just enough shadyness that makes me feel comfortable. Nothing fancy.” Then we saw it:
Let me tell you about our experience at this furniture, shoe and greeting card wonderland.
You know how when you go to a furniture store or a car lot you get accosted by a sales person in less than 4 seconds? Yeah, same thing here. But these sales people aren’t your average working stiffs. They’re all convicts on parole.
I’ll pause here while that sinks in.
May I continue now? Yes? OK, good. So it started out with the average, “Hi, are you looking for something in particular?” type of selling tactic.
Yeah, I’m most likely looking for a dining set since I’m in the fucking dining set area of the store, Slick. [Seriously, he had slicked back hair so the name fit].
The buyer/seller conversation quickly went off the fucking map of normal and traveled into ‘where the fuck am I and how did I end up chatting with Mr. Shawshank Redemption about purchasing a dining set? type of situation.
After the usual “this is the best price in town” and “look at the quality workmanship in this set” crap, Slick, without any segue at all, launches into the weirdest, most disconnected and unsolicited rant of how everyone that works there is an ex-con and they’re all just trying to get a fresh start in life and the past is the past, right? and doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance? and why are you clutching your purse a little tighter ma’am? and this table comes with four chairs.
Oh! And they have layaway! Could life get any better? I submit that it could not.
I was also informed that there was a chain gang of happy, non orange-glow jumpsuit wearing, picnic table builders toiling away upstairs just as we were speaking! How fabulous!!
Without looking like a couple of judgemental weirded out douchers, we told Slick that we were just in for a look and would come back when we had the money to buy something.
(“But we have layaway!”)
We sauntered through the shoe section, then pretended to be interested in the snack food section, (did I mention this was a furniture store?) then made our way casually past the caged cats for adoption area and out the front door.
Will I ever go back to Crazy Larry’s Convict Emporium?
What do you think?
Of course I will. You should have seen their prices!! And they have layaway!!
Cheers! ~ SF.