I went couch-hunting on Sunday. Couches aren’t quite as challenging as big game, but they do come pre-stuffed, which is a huge plus if you aren’t into recreational taxidermy. Actually, there wasn’t all that much “hunting” involved, since I already knew what I wanted and where to get it. Consequently, I was in a buoyant mood when I approached the sales assistant+ and announced that I wished to purchase a couch.
“Sorry sir,” proclaimed she, “This are carpets. Couches is over there” and gestured vaguely in the direction of lounge furniture before returning to the copy of ‘Heat’ that had been occupying her attention before I interrupted.
For a moment I thought she was taking the piss, but no – it would seem that not only are there people who cannot distinguish between a floor mat and a sofa, but there are sufficient numbers of them to warrant a polyester-bedecked sentry to point them in the right direction. This is disturbing.
Even more disturbing: apparently I look like one of these people.
+ They’re easy to spot: weird hairstyle; poor oral hygiene; fondness for artificial fibre; big plastic badge with “Sales Assistant” proudly emblazoned across it