|Tile me no lies, or, It Pays to Shop When the Boss is in the Store
||[Aug. 26th, 2008|10:06 pm]
Guess what is sitting in my living room right now? Go on, guess. If you've been paying any attention at all, this is a gimmie.
Saturday we were out running errands and I wanted to make one last effort to pick out some tile. I was resigned to not getting the tile, and ready (almost) to just pick out something cheap and serviceable. And halfway to the discount place where I had been skulking about off and on all week, I decided that I wanted to go back to LM#3 and see if they still had the six pieces of the tile of my dreams. If they had it, I was prepared to buy it and cut it up and somehow use it for trim.
So, Husband, being the nice and patient man he is, turned the car around and headed for LM#3. And, sure enough, there was the tile, right where I had left it. The sales guy walked up, and recognized me.
I guess you still just have the six pieces? I asked, with just a twinge of wistfulness. A twinge.
Oh, I can order that for you. He said, without even the slightest twinge of anything.
Really? was my response, with a twinge of something that wasn't exactly wist.
That's when I noticed another man standing a few feet away. A man who turned out to be either the manager or the owner.
I was too happy about the tile to be more than slightly miffed. After the past two weeks, I have decided that there is some sort of Secret Brotherhood of Tile Salesmen. They meet in abandoned warehouses after midnight and swap secret handshakes and tips for pretending to be helpful while not actually doing anything they say they will do (you will be happy to discover that I spared you all the story of the discount tile store, which promised to order some samples for me and then didn't).
In any case, I now have 50 square feet of tile. Yes, I only needed 20 to do the floor, but I couldn't afford the 70 it would take to do the bathtub surround, so I picked up the difference and got enough to do some sort of something. Maybe stripes. maybe a random pattern. Maybe a mosaic of myself in tile, standing victorious with one foot atop a prone tile salesman.