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.
"I don't like the word 'butt plug', it's too harsh. My husband and I call them 'anal pacifiers'." --Said to a couple of people loudly discussing butt plugs on the 39 bus. It was the only thing I said during the entire ride. I got off at the next stop.
(I am still not married. Nor have I ever called them "anal pacifiers" before.)
Imaginary Person: Hey Adam, why did you eat all those goldfish?
Me: I'm trying to steal their memories. Oh, look, a castle.
IP: How is that going for you?
Me: Oh, look, a castle! Who are you? Oh, look, a castle!
Dude mutters something in his sleep.
Me, quietly: What did you say?
Him, quietly: I'm really into scat.
His eyes pop open.
Dude: Skippity bop bop bop bop sha wow wow yeaahhhhhhhh.
Dude closes his eyes and rolls over.
Me: I. Love. You.
Dude: Boop boop ba ba bop zooooooooooom.
Last Person I Was In A Relationship With: Same jobs. Same poetry routines. Is there anything new at all with you?
Me: Actually, I've been seeing someone for a few weeks now. I would invite you to hang out with us, but we're really gross. Not, like, saccharine nicknames and matching clothes gross, just constant eyefucking, and when we're not hanging all over each other, you can tell we're thinking about it.
LPIWIARW: Yuck. Love sounds awful.
Me: It's actually pretty great.
LPIWIARW: Well, I guess you deserve it, what with the whole coming back from the dead thing. Eventually you were bound to find someone you love who actually felt the same way.
Me: WE DATED FOR A YEAR.
LPIWIARW: Did we, though?
Me: You moved into my apartment. Twice!
LPIWARW: I didn't have anywhere else to go. I'm an awful person. I assumed that's why you were attracted to me.
Me: It sounds like your therapy is going well.
Harvard Student 1: Look at those cute little rabbits!
Me: (looks at what are, by Cambridge standards, two adorable rats)
Harvard Student 2: I've never seen rabbits with ears that short before.
Harvard Student 1: Or such long tails.
Harvard Student 2: I'm going to look them up on Wikipedia.
Sadly, my bus was coming, and I missed what, I'm sure, was their fascinating realization.
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.