Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Overpriced Couches and Insulting the Locals

I was touring around the Huntington, West Virginia and Ashland, Kentucky countryside.  I was busy looking for musical instrument and pawn shops, while my evil twin sister was looking for antique shops.  She had made a list of places she wanted to go in the area.  We happened to drive by one while going to a guitar shop I was going to.

So after we visited the guitar shop, we drove back down the road to the antique shop.  It seemed normal enough.  First we had to find the door.  It was hidden on the side.  As we walked in the shop the first thing I noticed was that it was packed, as in packed with junk with barely any place to walk.  I was having to tip-toe through the store to avoid knocking things over.  I’m not kidding.  I was moving very slowly since things were piled up one thing on another.

As I went to walk up the stairs I had to get a hold of my evil twin sister.  She was going to go around the side to get to the second floor.  I had to tell her there was a staircase inside the building.  The staircase was mostly covered with overpriced jars.  In fact, even though there was nothing of interest to me it all seemed overpriced.  Not just a little overpriced, it was just a ridiculous amount overpriced. 

As I made my way upstairs I noticed an old time couch.  I then noticed the price of the couch.  I should have.  It marked ever so eloquently on a sign. 

For the record, it says: 

Couch – New Padding
And New Upholstery – was
$1,295.00 – On Sale Now!!

I got to thinking.  First, that couch is way overpriced.  Second, why is there so much stuff on and around it?  Don’t believe me?  Look at this.

Then I wondered, if I were to buy it how the hell was I supposed to get it out of that shop.  All sorts of stuff would have to be moved off it.  Then a path would have to be cleared to the stairs.  I don’t know how it would have to be turned to get down the stairs.  Then, all the overpriced jars would have to be cleared off the stairs.  Next, a lot of stuff would have to be cleared out of the way at the bottom of the stairs to get the couch straight.  Then a path would have to be made so that it could reach the door. 

The woman who was at the front desk was kind of bossy.  She was telling us that there were two other buildings that had things in them, but she just kind of pointed out back.  There were three buildings, and I asked her which ones.  She grabbed me by the sleeve of my shirt, and started to drag me over to it.  I resisted the urge to yank my sleeve out of her hand.  To say it mildly, she was getting on my nerves. 

I checked the other two buildings of increasingly overpriced junk.  There was nothing I could even pretend to be interested in.  As we were walking back to the car she came out, and started asking us, “Wasn’t there anything you could find that you couldn’t live without?”  I told her I was looking mainly for musical instruments.  She started yammering on, and I just kind of faded out.  That is until she said that her sister owned the store, and she ran the front desk.  Since she had so far insulted me with bad prices, grabbed me, and bored me, I did the only thing an Adrian would do.  I asked her if the other lady next to her was her “life partner.”  She was like, “Not hardly!  That’s my adopted sister!” 

This of course completely embarrassed my evil twin sister.  I just thought with all the crap that lady was slinging that I would give a little back.  If I had to do it again, I would have told her that it was okay, and that I was completely understanding and supportive of her and her life partner’s right to be here, queer, and that I had gotten used to it. 

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