There is no way that being in Kohl’s department store should make you feel like an elitist, but as I stood in front of a wall of pillows that’s exactly how I felt. There were all these pillows for queen and twin beds, but not a damn one for a king. It’s not my fault we have a king size bed. It’s not like we bought it to shove it up the ass of the bourgeois. We just own a big bed, okay? But now, I can’t find a king pillow and I am losing my mind.
I spent thirty seconds massaging one of those Tempur-Pedic pillows, and man, they seem really badass. But I feared that their weird shape, with that dip in the middle, would prove a costly mistake or possibly suffocate me if I fell asleep drunk.
What gets me is I wouldn’t even be here if a) my cheap pillow would have lasted longer than eight years, b) I could learn to love sleeping on something that felt like shredded corrugated cardboard, and c) I would have manned up at Bed Bath and Beyond a few days before (and as tragically outlined in my previous post.)
I was only at Kohl’s because I hate the thought of going to Walmart – whose parking lot I just pulled into. The entirety of Kohl’s could fit into our local Walmart’s bathroom. The only thing our Walmart doesn’t have is a hotel and spa. Although the store is so massive it could be I just didn’t see it.
After walking three miles, and then back one mile since the pillows are decidedly NOT where I was told they were (thanks elderly greeter) I was in front of more pillows. And by now, the entire experience had started to weigh on me. I was exhausted and exasperated. (However, on a fun side note, I was using the bathroom at Walmart – the one with Kohl’s inside of it – and while I was washing my hands a woman walked into the men’s room. The timing was either good or bad depending on how you look at it.)
But since I had already spent too long on this endeavor and since I was becoming borderline manic, I bought the beast. When I got home, I wrestled the pillow case on which made me feel like I was putting a condom on a flaccid elephant.
When I crawled into bed that night, I tossed caution to the wind and turned onto my stomach, didn’t think of sheep (mostly) and embraced my elitism. I don’t know if it was the beer or the pillow, but damn, I slept well.