We thought we had wandered through the entire top floor, and not seen the table or desk we'd been hoping for (oh, we'd seen tables, and, oh, we'd seen desks, just not the right size or style), so we got generic lunch in their generic balls of food department. After some crunch and sip, we went back in and discovered we'd somehow cut out half the showrooms. We snaked around, found a desk we liked, and then arrived in the bar counter and kitchen counter department.
Me: I think this table is the perfect height, and the width should be fine.
Dude: Yea. It shouldn't block the entrance to the kitchen.
That had been a problem with most of the other tables that were the right height.
Random Claude: We just wish this table came in that height, don't we honey.
Honey: Yea. Sure.
Random Claude: We've been here for hours, trying to find the perfect table. We saw it online, but can't seem to find it anywhere.
Honey: I told you we should have written it down on your phone.
RC: I didn't think I'd forget it. It had some cute little foreign name.
H: They ALL have cute little Swedish names. It's a Swedish store.
RC: Well, I didn't know that.
H: I'm going to go the bathroom.
RC: That one comes with all four of the stools. For that price? You can't beat it.
Me: Oh, yea. We don't need stools, though.
Dude: Where would we even put them?
RC: Excuse me a minute.
She has had her phone out this whole time. I thought she was just one of those people that always had their phone out, but it turns out she'd been on hold.
RC, not adjusting her volume in the slightest: Hi. I'm calling about the results of my STI test. Yes, I know that's why everyone calls. Sarah Lastname. Could you tell me quick? I'm on a tight schedule.
She then begins to scratch herself.
We move on, and find a delightful counter with a half wheelbase that is now assembled and in the kitchen.
Neither of us caught The Scratch.
Dude: Anything else I should get at the grocery store?
Me: Apples, romaine lettuce, smooth peanut butter. (Some jerk accidentally bought chunky peanut butter a few weeks ago.)
Dude: I love chunky peanut butter.
Me: Good News! There is a tubby coyote butt in the kitchen.
Me: Tub of chunky peanut butter in the kitchen. No coyote parts. My phone is in a surrealist phase.
Dude: I can't IMAGINE where it gets that from.
Selina: YO HOMOS.
Me: Shut up, Selina.
Selina: WHAT YOU'RE DOING IS AGAINST GOD.
Me: Cat, what's your problem?
Selina: IT'S ADAM AND EVE, NOT ADAM AND DUDE.
Me: You're the worst.
Dude: I don't think you know what she's saying.
Selina: YOU CONSISTENTLY DATE LOSERS, YOU KNOW THAT?
Me: Wow. You are Awful tonight.
Dude: What did she call me?
Me: Butt pirate.
Dude: I was defending you, you little Shit Ostrich.
Selina: MRRRRRRRRREOWR MREOWWWWWWWWWWWWR. MREOWR.
Dude: You didn't tell me she was homophobic.
Selina: MREEEEOWR MROWR MREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOWR.
Dude: You. Are. A. Monster.
Dude: Why is your cat so homophobic, anyway?
Me: She's an evanjellicle.
Dude: "I know two things about sloths. And one of them is a lie. Either, their metabolism is so slow that they only poop between once a week and once a month, and when they do, its the time they are most vulnerable to predators. Or, their brains move so slowly that they sometimes mistake their arms for a tree branch."
Me: "So the fastest a sloth ever moves is when it's plunging to its death?"
Dude: "I'm pretty sure the metabolism thing is the truth."
Me: "Yea. The tree branch one is a Douglas Adams joke."
Dude: "Why do you know that?"
Me: "I know one thing about sloths, and it's that Douglas Adams is a jerk."
Nosey Guy Who Always Comes In And Expects Me To Give Him A Free Therapy Session Because He Is Lonely And I Am Trapped In A Store: "I have a date tonight."
NG: "It's tough you know."
NG: "Are you married?"
NG: "Ever been in a relationship?"
NG: "I hear you. Do you ever want to be married?"
NG: "A lot of guys don't realize they need relationships."
NG: "You know what I mean?"
NG: "You seem to have it all figured it out."
Dude Via Text: "What are we doing for dinner?"
I start to type.
NG: "I've been dating a long time. I could tell you some stories."
DvT, before I can text a reply: "Wait, you're going out tonight, right?"
Me via Text: "Yep. But I should still be home moderately early. Be aware, I'm going to have an entire bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling cider. I hope you're prepared for the consequences."
NG: "Sure do have a lot of stories."
Me: "Anything I can help you find?"
NG: "I kind of want to go over there."
He points to the section that I have blocked off.
Me: "Sorry. It's closed today."
NG: "Like your heart."
Me: "Like my patience."
He leaves without buying anything.
Me via Text: "Are you hanging out with the dust mops."
DvT: "No. Shit Ostrich is lazy on the bookcase, Goose is lazy on the floor. I'm lazy on the bed. We are all unimpressed with Monday."
MvT: "Same. You should hang out with Shit Ostrich. You seem to be a good influence on her."
DvT: "On the bookcase? That seems dangerous."
MvT: "Got it. Sturdier bookcases."
DvT: "Sure? I wouldn't make that a priority."
Like I've ever had any sense of priority.
Me: I'm too tired to cook. Should we order in?
Dude: I'm not in the mood for Chinese. Something with fruit?
I send him links to Playa Bowls, and recommend some other healthy places that serve fruit like things.
Dude: I am terrible at making decisions tonight.
Me: Does pineapple on a chicken pizza count as fruit?
Dude: Wait, was that part of your Tinder bio? I feel like that's why I swept right for you. Yes to pineapple chicken pizza. And to not ever having to argue about how pineapple belongs on a pizza.
During a discussion about how being half-assed is only acceptable if it results in a zonkey:
Dude: Mules don't cut it.
Me: Mules are the ostriches of horses.
Dude: Or Canada Geese.
Me: Canada Geese are The Worst. If we're going to be a country of racists who build a border wall, it should be to keep out Canada Geese.
Dude: That would have to be a very tall wall, and I doubt we could get the geese to pay for it.
Me: Tax. The. Swans
Me: I don't want to jinx us, but ever since you showed up, my cat has stopped being annoying.
Dude: I'm sorry. Are we dating? Or am I your tawdry cat whisperer?
There are scratching sounds from my drawer.
Dude: Which one is that?
Me: Curse word bird with a weird neck.
Dude: Shit Ostrich?
Me: That is definitely her name from now on.
Selina: MY NAME IS NOT SHIT OSTRICH!
Me & Dude: SHUT UP SHIT OSTRICH!
Shit Ostrich has been quiet ever since.
Last night's featured performer did a poem about former roommates who left their sex toys in their shared shower.
After the poem was over, I leaned over to Dude. "One of my terrible ex-roommates used to leave their dildos in the shower all the time. So I used to drown their dildos in shampoo."
Dude looks appalled. "Adam. Don't you know how much that would hurt?"
Me: "Oh, I would then aim the shower head to rinse the shampoo off. I wanted them to notice the clean smell, so that they would realize that I had noticed their dildos were in the shower, and that I thought they were filthy. I would never want them to feel shampoo burn in their sensitive area."
Dude: "Ok. Whew."
Me: "Not when I had that whole kitchen cabinet worth of ghost peppers to rub on them."
Me: Hey, there. Long time, no talk. How's it going?
Dude: Good. Super horny. You?
Me: I'm doing laundry. The unsexiest chore.
Dude: I bet you could make it sexy.
Me: I don't think so. Dryers can't consent.
Dude: Our conversations never go the way I hope.
Me: Sorry, but I am like this All The Time.
Dude at 1:45: "I'm tired. We should crash."
Me: "We can't crash until 2:30."
Me: "Don't ask. Let's just watch another episode of Brooklyn 99."
At 2:15, Motherfucker jumps on the bed and curls up on my leg.
Dude: "Did your cat just sigh?"
Selina: "GUESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS WHAT I HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVE?"
Me: "Shut up, Selina."
Selina: "HERE'S A CLUE! YOU WEAR ONE ON YOUR FEET IN THE DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME."
Dude: "Is that my sock?"
Me: "Let her have it. It used to be a ball, but Goose destroyed that. Then it was one of my socks, until I hid them all in the drawer. Then she started bringing me the paper towel roll. It will always be something."
Dude: "Every night?"
Me: "At precisely 2:15. And if I close the door, she won't stop until I open the door. And if I try playing with her at 1:45, she'lll run away and hide. And if I pick her up at 2:00 and keep her trapped in a cuddle, she waits until I fall asleep and then announces whatever it is she can get her paws on, the moment she riggles free. "
Selina: "IT'S A SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCK."
Dude: "Has she always done this?"
Me: "No. I've had this cat for ten years. She's always been loud, but she didn't start having such a rigid play schedule until I moved into this place."
Dude: "You should move again. And maybe leave her behind."
Selina: "I'LL ALWAYS FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIND YOU LIKE I FOUND THIS SOCK!"
Dude: "How long does she --"
Me: "She's got one more meow and then she'll go hang out in the window."
Selina: "I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE THE WINDOW. I'M GONNA GO IN THE WINDOW NOW!"
Motherfucker loudly exhales.
Me: "Ok. Now we can go to sleep."