“Matted Carpet”

“Compassion Carpets, this is Willie, how can I help you?”

Willie held the receiver to his ear but heard nothing for several seconds. Finally, just as he was about to hang up, someone said with a small voice, “I’ve never talked to anyone about this so I’m a little nervous.” Willie stopped writing on the order form he had been filling out for Ms. Taykin’s purchase of 36 square yards of smoke grey cut pile carpet and looked up. The squeaky, whispered words told him someone was in need.

“No reason to be nervous, ma’am.  I’m here to help and I’m sure we have what you need.  Tell me what you’re looking for.”  Willie was a pro. He had 29 years of experience selling floor coverings and he knew his stuff.

“Well, our problems started about two years ago.  My husband and I have been married for 16 years and for most of them, it’s been wonderful.  He’s a dentist and I worked as a bodyguard for Miley Cyrus until I had our first child ten years ago.  We were so happy with Stephen Jr., we just kept having kids until one day, there were six.”

Willie put down his pen and sat up straight in his red high backed chair.  He listened intently, looking to uncover the carpet issue before it was even identified.  This is how good he was at his job.

“Can I ask your name, ma’am?”

“Sandra”

“”Well, Sandra, with a pack that size, I’m sure you’re suffering from what we experts call ‘tousled tapestry’.”  Alliteration in technical terms was so satisfying, but just in case he added, “A.K.A., matted carpet.”

Willie heard Sandra blow her nose and then say, “My kids are a bit of a handful – actually two hands full, actually two hands and two arms full sometimes, I don’t know. I try to keep myself looking attractive for my husband but it’s hard, they always need something and they pull and they scream and they spill…”

Willie’s eyes, nose and mouth all scrunched up into a space about half the size of normal as he pondered her words.  He was a bachelor, always a bachelor, so his knowledge of kids only extended to what they did to carpet.  The word “spill” caught his attention and he said, “Ah, yes, let me guess.  Mud or blood?”  He laughed and said, “Never mind, either one is a nightmare to clean up.  But there is an answer – high density wool.  It can stand up to almost anything because the fibers won’t untwist and get tangled up with other fibers.  Everyone hates it when one gets tangled up with another.”

Willie heard a gasp and then Sandra said, “You are so perceptive. How did you know I was thinking that? I don’t really know if he’s ‘tangled up with another’, like you said, but every night it’s the same thing, he just plops in front of the TV and ignores me. Meanwhile, what can I do? My only stress release is cleaning, but my mind wanders and I find myself vacuuming the same spot over and over, back and forth –“

“And that’s your problem, Sandra!” he said quite loudly into the phone. “You’ve got to change directions, mix it up, get below the surface so you get to the real dirt.”

“But I’m not the problem, he is!”  She continued, but in a quieter voice, “Well, maybe it’s both of us.  I guess I have my routines, too.  Maybe this is just what I should expect after so many years?”

Willie thought it was a little odd to refer to your carpet with a masculine pronoun, but he knew people got attached to things they owned for a long time, so he played along, “Or maybe you’ve just reached the end of the useful life with him. You could try cleaning –“

“You mean counseling?  He would never go.  He thinks we should be able to work it out on our own, that bringing in someone else to clean up our mess wouldn’t work.”

Excitedly, smelling the kill, Willie said, “And he’s absolutely right.  Sandra, it’s time.  Out with that old worn thing and in with the new.  You’ll be amazed at how much difference such a small change can make in your life.”

“Small change? I’ve been with him for sixteen years. I know things are difficult now, but I can’t imagine my life without him. Maybe I just have postpartum depression –“

“Heavy furniture can do that, all that weight pressing down on the same spots below the legs.  I suggest heat and moisture as the cure.”

“- but I’m not ready to throw him to the curb. There must be some way to salvage things.” Sandra’s voice resonated defiance, signaling to Willie that the sale wasn’t imminent. He quickly shifted gears.

“Sandra, you may be right.  As long as we’re not talking about polyester, you can probably get a few more years of life out of what you have.  Just make sure you move the furniture around, fluff it up regularly, and get a little steam in there now and then, if you know what I mean.”  Better to agree and get the sale when she’s ready, Willie thought.

“So you think this can work out?  Really?”

“There’s nothing like a new one for look and durability, but you sound pretty attached to what you’ve got, so stick with it but give Willie a call when you’re ready for a change.”

An indignant Sandra replied, “I don’t think it’s appropriate for a person in your position to proposition me. Who do you think you are?”

Willie shook his head back and forth quickly and said with pride, “This is Willie at Compassion Carpets, the largest carpet emporium in the greater Asheville area.”

Sandra paused and then said, “Is this 978-476-2091?”

“Close. This is 2019.”

“Oh my,” Sandra replied, “I’m so sorry, wrong number. But I must say, you would make an excellent marriage counselor. Thanks for your advice, bye.”

“Thanks for calling Compassion Carpets.”  Willie hung up the phone and a big grin lit up his face.  Another satisfied customer.