On a bit of a whim, my family and I decided to go shopping at a popular furniture store for a new sofa and chair for our living room. The place was not particularly busy, and quite often at stores such as this one, you have to shake the sales staff off both of your legs as you drag them from showroom to showroom while you try to browse.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been to some of these stores, but they are mammoth. I think this one had its own zip code. There are time zones between the north and south sides of the building. We wandered from room to room, mostly avoiding eye contact with the sales people because I think it’s like the face-melting scene in “Raiders of the Lost Ark.” If you look at them, your head turns to molten lava.

It’s a beautiful store, mind you, but the styles range from pretty to chic to gauche. How many ceramic horse heads does one person need? What is this? “The Godfather?”

Naturally, I had to sit in every power recliner, test the buttons and see if what the guy says on TV is really true. I felt like Goldilocks. They tilted, they swiveled, they rocked, they adjusted your head, they adjusted your lumbar. I think one even had a bidet. So luxurious.

I kept admiring things in front of the sales folks that were not for sale.

“Does this come in any other colors?” I asked of a trash can. “Ooh, this is nice,” I said of one of their printers. “I don’t like white, though. It gets dirty so fast.”

I tried their sleep test machine, which is designed to help you find the right mattress. This place even had a Sleep Lab with sleep lab technicians who wore white lab coats. Like in an asylum.

You stand next to the this machine and it sort of feels you up. I just wanted to know if this thing would allow me to sleep standing up – sort of like a murphy bed but still in the wall. I figured I could catch a few extra z’s if all I had to do to get out of bed was lean slightly forward. No rolling out of bed involved.

As I meandered through a maze of living room combos, I lost my family and my way. I would have left a trail of popcorn, but their concession stand was closed due to COVID cooties.

Fortunately, I had picked up my script for Xanax and left a trail of those instead. The staff didn’t help me find my way, but they did seem quite relaxed.

I didn’t bring my compass and found myself completely lost and disoriented. I called for an Uber but they told me they didn’t think cars were allowed in the building.

Finally, I found the stairwell and knew that led to the lobby. There was one sales manager at the door, sort of directing people as they came into the store.

“Can you tell me where the lost and found is?” I asked the man. “Because boy, am I lost.”

I sat on a couch in the lobby and perused my phone, waiting for a nice family to come and adopt me.

“What’s your deal?” I asked the gentleman behind the concession stand.

“What do they make you do?”

He reiterated that he helps people find the right department.

“Where’s Discount Bob?” I inquired.

“That’s a different store,” the man said with much aplomb.

“That’s good,” I answered. “Because that Claymation dude scares the hell out of me.”

My family eventually retrieved me from the lost and found and I thanked the nice staff for all their help. We came, we saw, we bought.

“Thanks! Come again!” they said in unison. “But not you!” they said in unison, pointing towards me.