Monday, January 19, 2009

Once Upon A Mattress (Store).........

Yeah, this post is entirely too long but it's really funny, completely factual, and has the potential to be turned into a very special Mattress Movie Of The Week.

So last week, the youngest Infidel son decided to cast himself in the starring role of a new reality show called I'm A Little PEEPOT! Yep, he's a little PEEPOT, alright, short and stout; he tipped himself over (onto my bed) and poured it all out.
My son, the mattress assassin.
I suppose it's only fitting that Senor Pissalot himself brought about the final demise of our long-suffering mattress since he was birthed into this mortal coil on that very same mattress seven years ago. It's akin to a mattress version of The Circle Of Life.
R.I.P Marital Mattress. For 14 years your creaky spring coils and saggy padding endured a lot of blood, sweat, and tears.......and crumbs.
All of a sudden, I feel like mournfully singing a verse or two of Sunrise/Sunset.
Up until last week I was still a mattress-buying virgin, pure and mild.
Nothing in my lifetime could have prepared me for the bed-hunting odyssey that came to pass.
The three oldest mini-Infidels and I wandered into a snooty furniture store to browse and found ourselves getting stalked by this unbelievably geeky, bespectacled salesman in a rousing game of mattress showroom hide-and-seek.
That was fun, especially when we ducked into the next display and watched the salesman devolve into a total state of confusion as he spun his reed-thin neck around Exorcist-style in a futile effort to scan the demo furniture landscape in search of his escaped quarry.
So then we sauntered off next door to the Mattress Expo store where I quickly located a Mattress Queen suitable for an Infidel Queen like myself and at a fairly reasonable price, too.
I sat across from the fusty and abrasive salesman as he wrote up the receipt and arranged a pick-up time for the next day.
At that moment, the other sales guy-who'd been content to passively plop himself down on one of the mattresses during the whole purchase process-seized upon the opportunity to unexpectedly lean over and growl into my ear: "Tomorrow, when you come to pick up your mattress, it'll be just YOU and ME because your kids will be back in school."
And then he sniffed my hair.
I'm very disappointed in Head&Shoulders anti-flake formula shampoo. That stuff should have been like Kryptonite to this flakey guy.
Thoroughly creeped out but too startled to speak, I glared over at this younger version of Jerry Stiller clad in a tacky olive green-hued bowling shirt while he simply smirked lecherously back at me.
I would have liked to christen him with an apropos nickname like "Pillowtop Pushing Perv" but I found out that he actually goes by "Scoobie."
Yes, Scoobie.
Old Scoobie going around sniffing for a Scoobie Snack but the only thing he'll ever get from me is a gigantic Scoobie SMACK!
The oldest Infidel son, Buster, puffed out his chest and curtly told Scoobie that he would be accompanying me to the store the next day and that he takes Kung-Fu.
Scoobie looked disappointed but that didn't stop him from jiggling his paunchy belly in our faces as he showed us his nerdy Ninja moves while singing "Everybody Was Kung-Fu Fighting" off-key.
Upon leaving the store, Scoobie sent my personal Creep-O-Meter soaring through the stratosphere. As we hurriedly stampeded towards the exit, he bellowed out: "Ma'am, don't forget that mattress has a 10-year warranty on it......but don't let ten years pass before you come in and see me again......"
Ewwwww.
I started to wonder if I'd inadvertently stumbled into someplace other than Mattress Expo. Could it be that some of their outside lettering either shorted out or fell off?
I mean, Scoobie acted as though he'd be more comfortable employed at a store called Mattress EXXXpo or Mattress Exposed.
Poor Scoobie is too short to work at Mattress Giant because he's a Mattress (Mental) Midget. Mattress King is also out of the question. The only regal title Scoobie qualifies for is Royal Pain In The Ash.
Mattress Firm? Ummm, no. Fuggedaboutit.
Later in the day, as I relayed the shocking events to my mom, she started laughing and told me that James, the surly salesguy who'd attended us, had hit on her when she'd gone in to pick up her mattress a few months ago.
According to my mom, James loaded the mattress up and then breathily told her that she couldn't possibly handle the mattress without help and that he'd just come home with her and set it up in her bedroom, free of charge.
She declined the offer.
I think Scoobie and James are suffering from a severe onset of delusions; likely a residual effect of inhaling way too many noxious mattress factory fumes during the course of their careers.
I mean, really, has any woman in history given in to these cheesy come-ons? Do these guys think that any lady, anywhere, will suddenly turn to them and sultrily say "Sure, let's go put some mileage on one of these mattress floor samples, right now!"
I bet there's some sort of Mattress Man Monthly publication that James and Scoobie are just dying to write a letter to that starts out with the ubiquitous line: "Dear Mattress Man Monthly: I never thought something like this would happen to me, but........."
Well, I don't happen to know anyone of the female persuasion willing to give them fodder for their steamy story swaps over at the annual Mattress Man convention.
Needless to say, the prospect of another Scoobie encounter didn't thrill me so I forced Papi to sign up for mattress retrieval duties.
I'm happy to report that Scoobie did not make a move on Papi even though he wore his most sexiest, butt-hugging pair of Levi jeans.
Scoobie must subscribe to the "It's 2009 and any lady, any at all, is just FINE!" philosophy.

*By the way, I do LOVE, LOVE, LOVE our new mattress set. It's like a Silent Springs 2000 model; necessary when you have children lingering only a thin wall away from you. We're still debating a proper use for our retired mattress. Here's what we've come up with so far:
A Really Ghetto Trampoline.
Placing the mattress in a corner of the backyard and surrounding it with scented candles so it can function as a specialized Suburban Animal Mating Center.
Donating it to the Princess And The Pea foundation.
Transforming the coils into homemade Moon Boots or Po' Folks Pogo Sticks.
Building our very own Mattress Stonehenge.....until the uptight HOA directors makes us take it down.
I'm open to outside input and ideas. :)*

32 comments:

J-Mom said...

This definitely could be the next hit Mattress Movie of the Week. I couldn't stop laughing from the beginning to the end. Love the ideas, for mattress reuse/recycle.

Nancy Face said...

I'm liking the Stonehenge option! :D

Nancy Face said...

This was SOOO funny...I REALLY cracked up when I got to the part about the sign missing some letters! :D

Nancy Face said...

What a perv...EWWW! I'm glad he drew the line at hitting on your Papi! :0

Buster is quite the hero, by the way! :)

glittersmama said...

ew ew ew!

Elizabeth-W said...

Like the candle idea. Get an old toilet and add that to your grotto.

Stacey said...

First of all,EW! Why are some guys so sleazy like that?

I like the ghetto trampoline idea.

Of course the Mattress Stonehenge could really class up the place...hmm. Tough one.

nora.lakehurst said...

Uh gross. Imean I would never want to be someones butter to their bread. CACA. Anyways have fun Lubs!

Suburban Hippie said...

Men are so creepy. It must work for him sometimes for him to keep trying it.

I think you should save the mattress and when you have a couple more you can line the walls of a room and go in and throw yourself against the walls when you feel crazy. Or you can just collect other crazy people and put them in there and watch them bounce off the walls.

Rebecca said...

If Papi's butt-hugging jeans didn't do it, perhaps you should have shown him those online pics!

Funny, funny stuff! Good for Buster, protecting his mama!

Lisa said...

I squealled for job for YOU when I saw your title! I knew it was new mattress time for the Infidel's!! Yay!

But...ewww....really creepy salesman. I'm glad it didn't turn into a CSI story.

Lisa said...

Yeah, I also squealed for joY for you!

Annie said...

This was good, but I prefer the live, over-the-phone version.

Yvonne said...

That was too funny (as always)

I like the idea of the "Suburban animal mating center" ; )

I am sure glad Buster was with you!!!!

jams o donnell said...

I love the mattres Stonehenge idea. Mattress trilithons in Houston could be a big attraction

Sadly there's no way that our old mattress is going anywhere but a sealed incinerator!

Heffalump said...

Our first matress set was a really old one given to us by D's grandparents. When we bought a new set the guy that came and picked up the old one actually asked us if he could keep the box spring for some kind of box spring museum he and his wife ran. (It was an old box spring from before the days they actually had a box around them. It was just metal springs welded to a metal frame, no fabric or anything)
Maybe you should start an Infidel museum. The mattress of conception and birth could be your first exhibit!

Hey It's Di said...

No way! Those guys come on to everyone? I thought it was just me and so I took him up on it..NOT. I think you were in the Mattress SEXPO!

I do love the idea of the redneck mattress trampoline. I know that I have had my day (and still do) jumping on a mattress:)

Jami said...

Yay! A new mattress for Elastic! Don't forget the waterproof mattress pad for when Sir Pissalot comes to visit tonight. Lady Peepee visits us. It's good to be loved by our noble kinsmen.

TTFN.

Klin said...

Scary shopping story. I love the men in your family protecting you. AWESOME.

I'll bet Papi in tight jeans does more for you than some mattress selling pervert.

Sister Pottymouth said...

You should burn the mattress, take a picture of the fire, and send it anonymously to the pervert salesman with the caption, "Hunka chunka burnin' mattress."

Memarie Lane said...

It is amazing how some guys come on. But when you think about it, it is kind of hard for guys to know what they're supposed to do, because they do need to come on in some way if they want to make any progress, but they really need to know when they've gone too far.

kelly said...

Interesting shopping story. That was too funny. Still laughing ...:D
have a visit here too elephant bean bags

Rhonda said...

Creepy mattress sales men ... that's just wrong.

However, I want that toast mattress! Think I could find some bacon PJs to go with it?

Jean Knee said...

you can't really blame the dude, one look at your snuggly infidel self and he lost his mind


remember that time when we were snuggling and you said I have the bluest eyessssssss no , sorry that was someone else

Millie said...

"rousing game of mattress showroom hide-and-seek" and Scoobie Smack were my favorites.

It was good over the phone AND on the blog!!!

Physcokity said...

"Mattress Movie Of The Week" I thought that was the alternately proposed title for those special Lifetime movies...silly me.

Physcokity said...

I vote for the Ghetto Tramp. Were you joing or was the Mattress Man that pervalicious?

But as far as the whole Mattress Expo misspell goes.. they spelled it right, they just dissected the words in the wrong place mattressexpo

Physcokity said...

In gazing over that picture a second time I pondered to myself...
Self? Is that woman supposed to be butter incarnate? If so she really is the debil.

Physcokity said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
wynne said...

...wha--?

Seriously?

That is sooooo wrong.

Except for the part where that guy's name was "scoobie." That was perfect.

wynne said...

I think you should recycle the mattress in the following manner: put a slip 'n' slide (or just a really long tarp, I'm not gonna get picky) on the roof of your house with water hose nearby and the mattress on the ground for landing purposes; invite over Scoobie and any other interested associates to come over and play. Just be sure to move the mattress about 10 feet in the wrong direction so they'd be sure to miss.

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