How Small is Small?

I took the boys mattress shopping today. I knew this was likely not a good idea, especially in light of the fact that it was during what should have been nap time (or, in the case of B, play-on-the-couch-quietly-while-Mommy-tries-to regain-some-of-her-sanity time).

The thing I didn't realize is that the people who work in the department store that rhymes with Tears also have a nap time. At least, I'm assuming that's what they were doing since there was not a salesperson to be found. Or maybe it's a sign of the economy, and they've all been laid off. Or furloughed. Or maybe Tears is having its own sequester, and they no longer work on Thursdays.

Whatever is to blame, I remember the days when a trip to a store like Tears meant an instant swarm of salespeople at your side, eager to make a sale. So eager, in fact, that they often wouldn't leave your side, even after you had asked them to. They were hungry.

Today, however, no one was hungry. Or, if they were, they had already gone out to lunch. I couldn't find a salesperson anywhere. I figured one would come along soon, so I decided to test out a few mattresses while I was waiting. I laid down on one and closed my eyes to get the full effect. I swear it was only for a minute. And then I heard B yell, "Mom? Are you sleeping?"

Uh, NO.

Silly boy. Who would fall asleep in the mattress department at Tears? Please.

I looked around again for a salesperson. Not a soul anywhere. I gave up and walked through the mall with the boys, thinking that surely naptime/lunchtime/the sequester would be over by the time we came back.

Apparently, I was wrong.

I asked a cashier if someone could help me in the mattress department. She looked at me for a minute and said "Now I know Gladys is there".

I nicely explained that No, Gladys really wasn't there. Cause I'd looked. Repeatedly.

The cashier glanced toward the mattresses and said "Well, she might be by the back wall. She's really small. So you may not have seen her".

She's really small?

So I may not have seen her?

I assured her that I had looked everywhere, and that Gladys really was not there. She shrugged and called for a salesperson over the intercom, and then told me to look again, since she was pretty sure that Gladys was there.

I went back to the mattresses again. I glanced around for Gladys, wondering how small is really small, anyway? I mean, are we talking short? Or little person?

Or maybe leprechaun?

Or maybe Gladys is just freakin invisible because she is nowhere to be seen.

After a few more minutes, B and O were getting quite restless. So restless, in fact, that they began to strip off their clothing, and dance between the mattresses.

(And no, in case you're wondering, they have never witnessed this type of behavior at home).

B asked me what would happen if someone who worked there saw them. I told him it didn't matter, since no one really worked there.

That was enough to convince him to continue dancing topless among the mattresses.

Eventually, a saleswoman walked by and I asked her if she worked in the mattress department.

"No, But I'll find someone for you", and then she added, "What did you need?"

"Straightjacket's for the children?" I said with my best I'm-clinging to-the-very-last-shreds-of-my-sanity smile.

She didn't smile back.

"Or just a mattress, " I said

I heard her call a salesperson over the intercom.

We waited some more.

I imagined the nasty letter I was going to write to Tears about their crappy customer service, not to mention their invisible sales clerks, but then realized that no one would read it since they're all sequestered.

Eventually, a woman walked up to us holding an Arbys' bag.

Gladys!

She wasn't that small.

And she wasn't sequestered after all.

She was just out to lunch.

I'm so happy you're here, Gladys. Now sell me a damn mattress.

Don't mind the half naked boys dancing on the beds.

Just pretend they're invisible.