I love my bed, love it. I simply cannot clearly iterate into words my deep and almost profound love of this bed. It’s a warm hug at the end of a day; it’s the suggestive come hither look of a lover in the morning; it’s my movie theater; my couch; my dining room; my therapist; my best friend; my bed.
My bed and I have a bond that goes way back to when I was merely a twinkle in my daddies eye. Yes, that’s right ladies and gentlemen, I was conceived on this bed. How many of you can lay claim to that very dubious honor? To think I could so easily been the wet patch in the middle of this bed, ickiness aside, that really make you think.
This was my first ‘big girl’ bed. And boy was it big for a small-for-my age 3 year old. I don’t really recall those early days with my bed, but I’m fairly certain I was the only kid in kinder with a queen size bed.
Given that our mutual history extends back such a way you’d be right to assume that my bed is very old. Roughly 28 years to be imprecise. That’s old. I read somewhere that you should replace your mattress every ten years or so. Probably a mattress company rouse (I’m looking at you Sealy), but still 3 decades is probably pushing envelope in terms of mattress acceptability. Which basically means its time to buy a new bed.
A bed is a big purchase, it might be one of the most expensive pieces of furniture you own (if indeed a bed is considered furniture). With the prospect of putting my old bed out to pasture it got me thinking of how I’d tackle turning my thought of ‘hey, time to buy a new bed’, into the materialization of said bed in my bedroom. In order to get from concept to project complete with minimal tears I plan to follow this strategy…
- Get to bed store early. As in when it opens. This is not a drill, we aren’t browsing, we are buying.
- Bring pillow for bed testing. Yes, I will look foolish, but if any of these bed salespeople are worth their salt they will stick to us like glue. Nothing says ‘I am serious about buying a bed’ more than a customer who shows up with a pillow under their arm.
- Wear slip on shoes. After a lifetime of being told to take my feet off the furniture I simply cannot turn off that inner chastising – even if there is that plastic strip over the end of the bed. As in all past cases of in public shoe removal – wear shoes you are prepared to have stolen. (Personally, I have never had my shoes stolen, I just have a healthy fear that it will happen someday).
- Don’t just bounce a few times on the edge of the bed to test – lie down, and not like some corpse, stiff as a board on your back either. I’m talking, fetal position, with your face slightly smooshed into the pillow – just like you do at home. Also, lie there for a decent amount of time. Its not a race, you’re buying a bed – something you could potentially have for the next 30 years. Although that’s unlikely with how things are made these days.
- You have a smart phone – use it. When you find a bed you like, get the make and model and Google the bejesus out of it for a better deal. And when you find said better deal – negotiate. Your unemployed goddammit – you have all the time in the world to stand there haggling. Until you have the bed salesperson crying in the corner about how he needs the commission to feed is family your job is not done.
- And finally, for the love of all that is sacred make sure they remove the existing bed – preferably for free. You will never regret having this done for you.