Buying a Mattress

I used to joke with Dear One that the main reason I married him was so he would be the point person if we ever purchased a car.  Pushy sales people cause smoke to come out of my ears.

But I now realize yet another reason I married him.  To be the point person to purchase a new mattress and box spring when we needed one.  And we need one.

We have this fabulous old burr walnut antique bed--complete with carved leaves and acorns covering the headboard and the footboard.  It dates from probably 1870. It certainly qualifies for a "statement" piece in the bedroom.

About 15 years ago, while Dear One was away--he entrusted me to go to a local mattress store to buy a new set.  It is an experience I never want to repeat.  Gone are the days of going to a general department store (thank you Gimbels and Dearly Departed Marshall Fields) and getting off the elevator to a sea of box springs and mattresses.  The customer would wander around, lie down on a few samples, find a salesperson and make arrangements for delivery.  Serta extra-firm?  Beauty Rest PillowTop?  I'll take that one--thank you very much.

My solo  mattress buying experience brought out the worst in me.  I entered a store and was descended upon by a salesman who could best be described as a cross between PT Barnum and Rasputin.  "Just browsing thanks," says I.  "Really--no--just looking and trying out a few sets" insisted I.  "Please, Sir, I will come find you if I have any questions."  It escalated into "Sir-GET LOST or I will go to another store to buy a mattress."  Yup.  The worst in me.

Now--15 years later--we need a new set.  Eureka.  While browsing some resort websites--I came across a site for a place we stayed over the years and loved, loved,   LOVED their beds.  AND-THEY-SELL-THEM-ON LINE.  Oh yes they do.  Four weeks order time--delivered--old set carted away.  AND NO SALESPERSON.  Happy Dance!!