Last week the Crankee Yankee and I bought a new mattress. We went to one of the well-known “mattress expert” stores, where acres of mattresses, all promising ‘the best sleep of your life,’ stretched before us.
Of course, the minute we walked in, a salesperson was on us like a pitbull on a porkchop. So we did our usual “divide and conquer” routine: the Crankee Yankee usually fields them at the door, and I get as far away as I can. If a stray salesperson tracks me down and asks if I need help, I usually say ‘no, thanks,” in a prickly sort of tone, even if I don’t know what the heck I’m doing….and might actually need help. I just don’t like them hanging around.
In fact, the last time I bought a mattress was in the late ’90s. After having spent over $700 on a fancy black wrought iron four-poster bed frame (which we still use), I really didn’t care what kind of mattress I got. I settled on a “special” $398 for mattress and box spring. After spending so much on a bed frame, I wasn’t keen on spending much on what I would actually sleep on. Little did I know then.
So we have been sleeping on that cheap-o mattress for years, never putting two and two together about why our backs always hurt in the mornings. We scoffed at it just being another unwelcome gift of getting older. Again–little did we know.
So, there we were at the mattress shop and the Crankee Yankee was dutifully lying down on different mattresses—the salesperson talking him through the benefits of the Super-Plus-Master-Fluffington, the Cool-Sleep-Bonafide-Comfort-Coil-and-SuperSleepTechnology, the PlushMeister 360, the ComfortSleeper-With-Genuine Satin-Wrapped-Space-Age-Springs Model 2015, the SleepNumber-GelPakPillowTop-with-Self-Regulating Memory Foam, and so on.
I was off in the distance, alternately touching mattresses and furtively sitting on a few. I was loathe to actually lie down on one of them; afraid that, as soon as I was in a defenseless position, a salesperson would swoop down on me and peck out my eyeballs while extolling the virtues of the mattress.
Now this nonsense would have gone on and on until one of us caved and just bought a mattress. However, one brave salesman offered to show us a bed that, according to him, we would HAVE to like. I sniffed to myself, ‘I’ll be the judge of THAT!’
He led us to a bed that, had it been a fashion model, would have been a tall, willowy, blue-eyed and blonde-haired young woman in her late 20s, wearing a clingy gold gown and dripping with diamonds. Evidently this mattress was stuffed with the softest wool from genuine Mongolian sheep, and had hand-wrapped titanium coils pocketed in real silk (so, what–that means either an actual person with burly arms did the wrapping of each and every coil, or did that mean that that same person wrapped each coil in its own special silk covering? Maybe both?!). It might as well have had a spotlight shining down on it–wait a minute–it DID have a spotlight!
The Crankee Yankee, knowing my aversion to all sales people, allowed me to sit on it first. Then he suggested I lie down on it……ahhhhhhh! I had to admit, it was absolutely wonderful. It was so comfortable; firm but yielding, soft but not too soft, high but not so high that we would need a footstool; in short, it was perfection itself. It was so comfortable that I actually smiled at the salesman. Long story short, I fell in love with it nearly as fast as I fell in love with the Crankee Yankee. In fact, while I lay in bliss on my stomach, I may have murmured to it softly, ‘will you marry me?’
We bought it, along with what the salesman claimed is the best mattress cover ever made. It guarantees protection from the following:
- dust mites
- bed bugs
And now we are now sleeping on this incredible mattress, which I fondly call our ‘genuine Mongolian Ass-Hair Mattress.’ I say that because there is a picture on the cover of the brochure that shows a picture of a small herd of Monogolian sheep. As they are all facing the camera, I can only assume that they chose not to take a picture from behind, as it would have been a picture of a herd of bare-ass Mongolian sheep.