You guys, sorry about the delay, I know everyone wants to hear about the hot furniture girl. However, there was this thing that happened yesterday called every person in my house was sick with high fevers, all at once and I was a bit busy, with the temperature taking and water bringing and medicine pushing, and in between all that I ran a race AND wrote the rough draft for the essay that’s due Sunday in my English class.
Alright, so when I last left you…well, actually I had been talking about my mailing list and going to Italy, but skip that part. I had been talking about furniture, remember? Let us continue…
We walked into the furniture store and were immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of choices that we saw. It was like, a large two-story mall, all gutted out and stuffed with furniture. It took us a little over an hour to make the initial walkaround, and there was a number of “rooms” that we bypassed completely. The way they do it, you find the basic pieces you want, and then you can decide on the finish, the stain, and sometimes the type of wood, and they build it for you, to order. And I had heard this, so I went prepared: I had particular things I was going for, and I wanted nothing else. But the choices! I was at a loss, and could not look at something without thinking twenty things in one second: no. yes. I mean, no…where would I put it? hmmm, if it were stained THIS color, maybe… And so on.
As we were walking along, contemplating, which I can assure you was tons of fun for John, somebody hailed us from behind. “Do you need any help from me?” But in an accent. And a voice made for phone sex, or soothing narrations, or porn. I’m not sure who turned quicker, but both John and I just stood there, not answering…because Lo! There in front of us was Hot Furniture Girl, and we were awestruck. I quickly gathered my wits, however, and said one of those things you say when you are completely flustered. It went something like this: “Oh, no. I mean, we are looking at stuff. Wine rack!” Hot Furniture Girl, surely used to years of flustering both sexes, calmly said, “Okay, my name is Pina and if you want, I can help you…you are looking for the wine rack?” And we went on a tour of every single wine rack in the store, and my husband was no help, and now I will finally, FINALLY tell you what Pina looked like, for all you perverts out there.
Pina, who is MY girlfriend, so don’t get any ideas, was a little taller than me, so…5′6″ or something, and was petite, but not scrawny. Her body was perfect. I’m not kidding. I’m sure she could have walked naked around the store and angels would have flown down from heaven to light her path, and the rest of us non-perfect people would have spent eternity throwing flowers before her. She was wearing a mini-mini skirt, and tall boots, and a cute sweater, and she had black hair that was of course, perfectly arranged around her face in loose waves. Her eyes were…the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. She was beautiful. Honestly. She had…no flaws. She wasn’t even wearing makeup, except mascara, and she still had no flaws.
Anyway, I don’t want to sound all stalkerish with Pina, because I don’t want to scare her away, so I will stop now. Besides, there is not more than I can say, besides she was honestly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in person, ever. So. Where were we? Oh yes…John. John trailed behind us, and when Pina ran back to the office for a second and I gave him a pointed look, he just grinned. “She’s hot” I said, and John said “…what?”
Pina walked around the store with us, and helped us with all of our choices, and was charming with her grasp of the English language, and John was silent, silent silent while I discussed stains with Pina, and contemplated moving to Belgium. He was silent the entire time, you guys, the ENTIRE TIME he had not said a single word, and then, when I was struggling with our address, what does he do? My silent husband who had not said a word all day? He busts out the German. Seriously. He busts out the German, and Pina immediately understood him, and he sat back all happy and smug, and my glare said two things: “um…the fuck?” and “back off my girlfriend, yo.”
So that was the story of Pina, the Hot Furniture Girl. I have inspired all the males in my office to make a trip to “buy furniture” over the weekend. Seriously, all I hear anymore is, “Why didn’t you get a picture of her” and “Tell me the story of Pina” and “Hey, so-and-so mentioned you went to the furniture store this weekend. Did you…see anything you liked?”
And now, we have come to the abrupt ending of an unedited and choppy post! How rude of me…but I need to get ready for work.
Tschuss!!
