Rent-a-Couch

Outfitting the house for the crew has been coming together nicely -- until Monday. That's when I called the 800 number to check on the delivery date of the new sofas and found out that what I thought I heard as Nov. 16th was really December 16th. I immediately hit the road, and all the furniture stores in the vicinity, thinking I might find something I loved as much right on the showroom floor.

I talked to a variety of slick salesmen. One called me Mrs. Turner the whole time, saying "If I may...." before he demonstrated the reclining feature or another style of sofa. At another store, the sales lady said, "I won't be in tomorrow, but when I see you on Wednesday we can get it all set up to deliver." I caught that subtle wording, that I would see her on Wednesday. I walked out saying, "Wanna bet!"

By the end of the day I was convinced there wasn't a sofa I liked better than the ones on order and I'd just have to wait. But what to do?

The next morning I was at Rent-A-Center bright and early, filling out the complicated application form which didn't fit my situation at all: What shift do you work? What is your weekly take home pay? Who holds the loan on your car? List four references, including at least two relatives who don't live with you. (I assume so they can track you down if you abscond with the furniture.)

I told the guy, "We own our own business, so I can put down a number, but you'll just be calling me."

I felt sorry for the people sitting there, waiting as their applications were scrutinized. I wasn't even sure my application was going to be approved, and I'm a good risk.

End of story: Today they delivered "my living room" as the guy called it. It doesn't match, but it'll be a good place to watch some football. For one month, it's a couch I can call my own.