I'm about 70% into a major dining room overhaul, a fact which has led to me scouring all corners of the earth for ideas and stuff and things that will help finish the project. Of course that means I *HAD* to go into Pottery Barn. Dining rooms and Pottery Barn are like peanut butter and jelly, no?
The first hint that this trip into Pottery Barn was going to be special read like a sign. Well, OK, it wasn't so much a hint as it was a literal sign--a sign in the doorway which announced that the store would be closing for renovations. One quick look inside gave notice that we were late to the party. The store was nearly empty.
BLURGH. I hate when I miss Store Closing Parties.
Empty shelves have never really stopped me from going to Store Closing Parties, though. Maybe I would find one little thing? Something? Anything?
I quickly bee-lined towards some metal bird sculptures that would look absolutely amazing in the china cabinet I currently have torn apart. As I stood there stroking them and trying to convince myself that $50 for two metal birds was totally reasonable, I heard something.
The husband. Beckoning me.
I quickly turned to see what he wanted. I swear the ceiling opened up, the sun scrambled to position itself where it could spotlight the husband's find, and angels began to sing. HALLELUJAH! He was standing pointing at a table.
The Table.
Months and months ago I got it into my head that the table in our kitchen was the wrong shape. A round table! That's what we needed! And a pedestal table, at that. I spent hours scouring stores, both in person and online, but couldn't find anything that I loved enough to open up my wallet.
But there it was . . . The Perfect Table. Of course, I had already seen it online and knew it was $1000. The husband isn't as much of a cheap ass as I am, so I figured it was marked down to $500 or something. A good deal, but certainly nothing to get excited about.
I decided to humor the man and slowly walked over to The Table. It was a floor model and bore the marks of years of wear. It wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed, but it certainly had seen its share of wear and tear. As I carefully looked over the scratches, a tiny little sign interrupted my thoughts.
$199.
THE TABLE WAS ON SALE FOR $199.
I looked again at the totality of the hunk of marvelous wood that stood in front of me. Was it horribly disfigured somewhere? Was it missing something? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH IT?
Oh! The leaf was missing.
Not a huge deal, but certainly it made sense that it had been marked down so much. Between the wear and tear and the missing leaf, it was probably only worth $150 to me.
As I turned to go back to stroking my metal birds, I saw another table across the store that was just like the one the husband was encouraging me to buy. IT HAD ITS LEAF.
Never before has a woman stuck such an aggressive pose as she pondered the fastest way across the store. I was prepared to take out anyone who so much as looked at My Table. I slapped on my ninja outfit and ran as fast as I could.
IT WAS ALSO $199! And while there were a couple of deep scratches, it still looked totally fixable. In a flash, my debit card flew out of my wallet and I tried to throw it at a sales person. She clearly did not understand the urgency of my need to purchase The Table before anyone else noticed it. She was all sorts of busy chatting with a customer. The nerve!
I grabbed the little price sign and slowly backed my way to the register, never once taking my eyes off the prize. I absolutely was willing to physically maim anyone who tried to stop me from completing my purchase.
I needn't have worried. The whopping two people in the store didn't care about my table, but -OH!- I cared! A lot!
Buying that $1000 Pottery Barn table for $199 was easily the most exciting thing to happen all weekend. EASILY.
And, yes, I just wrote an entire post about buying a table. Lame, I know. But you took your time to read it, so welcome to The Lame Club! We have nice tables here.
She Wasn't Impressed