Horton's Choice
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Bill and I bought a new TV a few days ago. It didn't fit into our old entertainment center, so we decided to buy a new one.
At the first store we visited, we were met by a dignified young man dressed in a pale blue sports coat, dark blue tie, crisp white shirt and a pair of sharply-creased trousers. If I had gotten closer, I'm sure I would have been able to see my face in his shoes.
"Hello," he said, looking us up and down.
The minute I looked him in the face I was speechless; he looked like the clone of a man I worked with in Chicago. His name was Horton.
"Hello," I said, "How're you?"
"Could I help you with something?" he said, flicking a piece of lint from his tie.
"Yes," I said, "We're looking for a small entertainment center."
Horton turned on his shining shoes and took off walking so fast that my face nearly hit his back when he suddenly stopped in front of a huge, ornate entertainment center. (It resembled the one in the above picture.)
He turned, sweeping his hand in a circle as if introducing us to Queen Elizabeth II. "This one is lovely," he said, "One of our best."
Bill frowned, looking up. "Good lord, that's big!"
"And too ornate," I said.
"It's only $4,999," Horton said, giving us a smirk, "Down from $5,650."
"We don't need one that big," I said.
"Or that expensive," said Bill.
Horton's smirk changed to a frown. He spun on his shining shoes and hurried to the next room. "Well, we have this one," he said, stopping at another, "It's not as nice as our top-of-the-line, but some people like it."
It was a little smaller, but too big for what we wanted. It was beautiful; a rich walnut, with multiple shelves, doors. And bookcases on either side.
"That's too big and ornate, too," I said, "But either of those would be a perfect fit for the Biltmore mansion."
Horton was appalled. He straightened his tie and took a deep breath. "Well, what about that one?" he said, pointing to a stand not much bigger than an end table.
"Oh, no," I said, "After what we've seen, that poor little thing looks so sad!"
"Oh, no," I said, "After what we've seen, that poor little thing looks so sad!"
Bill and I began laughing hysterically, but Horton never cracked a smile. As we walked out the door, he didn't even tell us to have a good day.
Note: We decided to keep our old one. We just knocked a few shelves out, and the new TV fits just fine. Horton would be appalled, though; it's not top-of-the-line.
9 comments:
So funny--I really hate to pick out furniture. I get bogged down with all the choices, grades of furniture blah blah blah. So is the picture at the top the one you got? It's beautiful.
Rhonda:
That's just a picture of the one Horton THOUGHT we should get. (Much too fancy for us...LOL!)
Funny story...Thanks for visiting my blog.
Thanks for your comment on my latest post.
I really understand what you mean about the salesman. Wonder if they work on commission? Didn't think store employees did, but who knows in these rough economic times?
Glad you found a way to use the TV stand you had. I have downsized tremendously since DH died, and try to keep from collecting things I will probably never use. I've succeeded fairly well the past 3 years, but lately feel like I can't toss out stuff the way I've been doing.
Apparently? Horton thinks he's a Who.
Ha ha...I knew that was coming, Bizzy!
Oh, dear lord, that thing's a MONSTER! If I had that in my living room, I'd be terrified!
You and me, too, Chris...LOL!
Suzanne took the words from my mouth. Yo, Horton, it's called CUSTOMER SERVICE. harumph!
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