Celebrating my second anniversary in my more spacious digs, there are still a few items left to purchase: like a sleeper sofa. When I originally moved in, the previous owner left his, and considering I’d been living in 90 square feet with no furniture, this was ideal until I figured out my style. (Note: I did run out and buy a couch cover that first week!) But after two years I couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to get off the couch and buy one.
But it’s not like I haven’t tried.
I’ve spent hours debating, fabric or leather? Camelback or Chesterfield? I came close once, but got woozy when handed dozens of color patterns. Too many choices, like too much stuff, disrupts my equilibrium.
But last Sunday I woke up determined, color choices be damned. Entering a furniture store on Broadway, a saleswoman approached with a smile. I explained my needs as she led me up the escalator into the football field-sized showroom and escorted me on what I assume was the “Sleeper Sofa Shuffle,” going from least expensive to most. By the last couch I was punchy and ready to buy, even though the price was steep.
“Great,” the saleswoman said, handing me a large metal ring with over 50 swatches. “Just let me know the color.” My eyes blurred. None had the look or feel that would entice me to cozy up on it with a good book. Sighing, I got up and walked back over to an earlier sleeper sofa. I liked the style and it was very comfortable. I subconsciously curled my feet up.
“Here you are,” the saleswoman said.
“I like this one,” I told her. She nodded deliberately, probably calculating how much less her commission would now be. Cautiously I asked, “What colors does it come in?”
“Oh, there are only three,” she said, as if expecting me to say, “forget it” and go back to the more expensive couch.
“Seriously? Only three?” I perked up, the glaze over my eyes clearing.
“It’s also on sale,” she added. Done. And done.
As she rang up my new sleeper sofa, I thought about my other “major” purchases – mattress, refrigerator, cabinets, countertop, headboard – and the speed with which I decided. That’s when it dawned on me. The less time I spent deciding on an item, the more time I had to actually enjoy it. Then I laughed. After two years of not deciding on a couch, when I finally did, it took me all off 2 minutes.
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