Ain’t Gonna Work On Maggie’s Farm No More

“Welcome to Zimmerman’s,” he bellowed. “We have a full line of furniture for your home or office. This month’s specials include sofas and dining room sets. Now through Tuesday if you buy an oak desk we’ll throw in the matching credenza for half price. But enough about that for now. Where are you from?”

     “We’re from over in Duluth,” he responded. “My name is Joey and my wife is Johanna.”

     Well then, welcome to Hibbing. Why not wander around and look at our showroom and if you have questions my son Harold will be only too happy to help you. Harold has decided to take over the family business instead of going to New York to write poetry. His mother and I are quite proud of him. Harold?            

     “Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?”

     “I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways,” said Harold.

     “Yeah, it’s quite a ways from Duluth,” answered Joey.

     OK, I’ll leave you in the capable hands of my son,” said the father.

     “I’ll know my song before I start singin’,” said Harold.

     “We’re looking for a bedroom set but I just can’t make up my mind between redwood and mahogany. Do you have time to show us some?”

      “I’m not sleepy and there is no place I’m going to.”

     “There’s so much to choose from…I’ll never decide…”

     “Just like a woman with her fog, her amphetamine and her pearls.”

     “I beg your pardon, young man.”

     “Her passport shows a face from another time and place.”

     “What?”

     “I have something made of silver or of golden, either from the mountains of Madrid, or the coast of Barcelona.”

     “We’re looking for something made here in Minnesota.”

     “I know that you’re dissatisfied with your position and your place. Don’t you understand it’s not my problem.”

     “Wait a minute. We came all the way from Duluth to look at furniture not to be insulted. People on the Iron Range don’t talk like that.”

     “No reason to get exited. There are many here among us that think that life is but a joke.”

     “Would you show us something in pine. Something in a neutral color?”

     “Tangled up in blue?”

     “Yes, the carpet is blue. Can we look in the warehouse too?”

     “Go lightly from the ledge, babe. Go lightly on the ground.”

     “Excuse me! My wife is not accustomed to be called “babe”. She’s been through a lot trying to redecorate our home and…”

     “Seems like every time you turn around there’s another hard luck story that you’re gonna hear.”

     “What? Enough of this nonsense. Don’t you have any answers? We’re going out to the warehouse…”

     “In the jingle, jangle morning I’ll come followin’ you.”

     “These end tables are nice. How much for the sofa?”

     “Your sister sees the furniture like your mamma and yourself.”

     “This stuff is nice but I rather liked the bed in the window.”

     “Oh, oh, we gonna fly down in the easy chair.”

     “But we’re not in the market for an easy chair. We told you we’re looking for…”

     “Lay Lady Lay. Lay across my big brass bed.”

     Now see here young man. Mind your manners. My husband won’t put up with any more shenanigans.”

     “But tonight I’ll be staying here with you.”

     “In your dreams! That’s enough. We’re going back to Duluth where people have some respect.”

     “There’s nothin’ you wish to be ownin’?”

     “Don’t get pushy. You act as if you were the only furniture store between here and Fargo. We can’t make up our minds right now.”

     “Don’t think twice, it’s all right.”

     “Well that’s better. Thanks for your input. We may be back and when we do we’ll ask to speak to a more knowledgeable clerk. Good-bye.”

     “You just kinda wasted my precious time.”

     “Well, Harold how do it go?” asked  the father.

     “He wants eleven dollar bills and you only got ten.”

     “That’s OK you can’t make every sale. Tomorrow will be better.”

     “None of them along the line know what any of it is worth.”

     “You said it, son.”

     “I can’t stay in here. Ain’t it clear…”

Filed Under: Fractured Opinion

Tags:

RSSComments (0)

Trackback URL

Comments are closed.