Melt Down In The Carpet Store

"Never assume anything."

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So Tom took Friday off, and it was lovely. After yard sales and lunch, we even drove over and watched San Andreas at the theater for pure fun and absolutely no moral or educational benefit.

But then came Saturday. Yard sales were terrific, but the heat and humidity became unbearable so we drove to our local carpet shop where, last year, the owner wrote out an estimate for us. Now in the morning, Tom had taken out the tape measure so to remeasure our living room and office, but I told him, "Nope! Don't need to do that. We'll just take that estimate with us, then they'll send a professional out to measure later."

Anytime you think something will be easy-peasey-- be leary.

Inside, the one salesman helped a woman for 15 minutes before telling Tom and I that soon his wife would return and help us. What felt like hours later, he spent 4 minutes with us, just long enough for Tom to turn to me and ask, "Didn't the guy last year say that we'd need a 15 foot roll?" to which I replied, "I don't remember a thing about that." 

But 15-foot rolls of berber are as rare as snow in July. Twelve is standard. That's when the salesman disappeared to help a man who came in after us. 

Fifteen minutes later, the humidity and our impatience growing, we'd had it. If we'd wanted to be ignored, we'd have gone to Home Depot. 

We should have walked out then, I know this. But the salesman had our estimate and I wanted it back. And when the other customer left, the salesman gave the paper back to me and went on where he'd left off 20 minutes earlier. But Tom stopped him and asked why he'd helped the man who came in after us--and it all went downhill from there.

The salesman apologized, then I told Tom we needed to just go home and remeasure the rooms because something sounded wrong if we needed a 15 foot roll for our tiny house. But that's when the guy's wife returned, she who actually works there (he was just helping her), and we had to start all over. At least, Tom did. I walked over to the door to wait for him because the whole thing had gotten ridiculous and I was fuming.

I just wanted to go home to our cheap, matted-down carpet, vacuum it, and call it a day. But Tom and the two salespeople kept talking and trying to figure out a way to get a (rare) 15 foot roll of berber. Finally, I rolled my eyes, huffed and stepped out into our sauna of a car, hoping Tom would take the hint.

He didn't. Fifteen minutes later he finally came out and I'll tell ya, if not for God calming me down, I'd have gone ballistic. But the whole thing was so ludicrous, that I was the kind of hysterical where you sense--if you start yelling--you'll never be able to stop. So instead, you slip into light-headedness and over-exaggeration and it comes out sounding rather like humor to your listener.

But oh, suddenly I really understood why some people lose their minds and the next thing they know, find themselves sitting in prison. And it sounds weird, but I'm grateful my heart was broadened that way.

Well, with the air-conditioner now blasting and what with buying lunch to take home, I soon felt saner. And when Tom later re-measured the carpet and discovered a 12 foot roll would have been fine, well, I didn't even tell him I told you so. After all, most of this had been my own fault--I had assumed we didn't need the measurements. I had stopped Tom from taking them before we left home.

For four years, especially, God's worked with me about never assuming anything. Maybe someday I'll always remember that. Maybe. But I'm thinking probably not.  :)

                                   
                                                 Lilac time!


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"Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time ... do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is."  ... Ephesians 5:15-17


“Don’t build roadblocks out of assumptions.” 
― Lorii Myers




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We totally enjoyed San Andreas. So realistic-ly made that I had to keep reminding myself that San Francisco is not, at this moment, a pile of rubble.


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