Went out and bought myself a mattress set last night. Way, way overdue. 8 years overdue or something. Last mattress I bought was in 1993.

I gotta say one thing right now, I pity the mattress salespeople of the world. I pity the car sales people too. More on them later. I just hope, just a couple seconds a day, that they feel the sort of undecided terror I felt in making a purchase as grand as this one. I hope it eats them alive. As the buyer, and the seller…or, the “needer” and the “provider of that need”, the dynamic between the two makes me want to firebomb their store. They’ve got you right where they fucking want you. I mean, I’m the one who made the trip to their place to shop, right? I wish they would lug the things door to door to make the sale. Just to see ‘em sweat a bit.

I walked into that joint with my favorite pillow under one arm, ready to go to battle. I think I got a square deal, and you how it goes, “You get what you pay for.” Well, that had better apply for me too. I kicked down and got an amazing set. Luxurious pillow top, good coil count, and something like a bumper-to-bumper 200 year warranty that covers “everything” except normal usage results…huh?

I’m excited to do some good sleeping on it.

As I was signing on the dotted line I looked up and said, “If this isn’t the right rig for me, I’ll be back, and I’ll make this place hell.” I smiled, finished up my elaborate signature, shook his hand and hit the road.

They are delivering it on saturday. Very excited. You know what they say, “Hey, you spend a third of your life in bed.”

Go figure.