Pastries, Passwords and Carpet Genies

"You know the place I'm talking about? There's the bakery here." She went on gesturing. As a good designer would do, I pretended to know exactly what she was talking about. "Oh, yes yes yes yes yes. Okay. (Nodding, for added effect). I know it." She had stopped talking mid-chorus-o-yesses. Apparently I was convincing. She handed over the samples, ever so trustingly. I walked out to my car, not having a clue as to where I was headed, except that I was to go to 2700 south and that I'd be able to pick up a Danish or something equally as delicious to help aid in the search effort.

My "I'm-going-to-conquer-the-design-world-one-living room-at-a-time" jams were full-throttle, providing the needed motivation, at least until I had a pastry in hand. So, I'm cruising 27th South (the "teen scene" as MM and I say - translation: 2700 south is where it's at!) not looking for the designer carpet store, but for a bakery? There was something wrong with this picture. I ditched the Danish idea, at least for the time being, and focused on the design task at hand: carpet. WAY more exciting than cream-filled desserts, right? Of course right.

I was just about to hit "repeat" (again) on Track 01, when I spotted it. An inconspicuous, artless gray hunk of a building, with the lettering, "Designer Carpet Showroom" in guilded gold. Sure glad they splurged there. Way to jazz up the place! Actually, had it not been for the gold signage, and the late-afternoon sun which sparkled through the autumn-dressed trees at exactly the perfect guilded angle, I would have passed the place altogether. To make the sad site sorer, there was a tall, black wrought-iron gate, practically welded shut, right at the entry to the parking lot, which was only accessible upon entrance through the locked gate. Of course. Of course. They taught us this in design school. Let me think. Let me think. And the password for strangely-secure carpet showrooms is...

Standing perpendicular to the black asphalt, cemented 20 feet into the ground, was a large security box full of numbered and lettered buttons. Well, roll out the welcome mat, speaking of carpet. This place was just shouting for visitors. Yes, showrooms often under-advertise in order to keep the public at bay, but this place was one Doberman shy of a compound!

I rubbed the security box thrice, ready to say, "Hi, it's me, Al. Here to see Robin Williams," but this genie wasn't waking up anytime soon. There was no big blue dude on the other end. Not even a voice. Yes, out of all the designer-only showrooms, it's the carpet showrooms that are on the cutting-edge of technology. There are so many new advances in carpet...padding. At this point, the five-o-clock traffic was nearing grid-lock. Or so it appeared. But wait. This was 2700 south, not I-15. What was all the honking about? I just don't understand those people who honk when they know it won't do any good. I looked in my rear-view mirror to pity the fool when all of a sudden I realized, it was my tail end that was clogging up the lanes on 2700 south! Where was the genie now that I needed him the most?! Feeling defeated on multiple levels (I mean, an actual genie! So close. Can you imagine?!) I waved to the guy who I labeled "jerk," only to find out I was the one who had made him such, and let him know that I had snapped out of my Al's Carpet Palace Nightmare, that I would be getting out of his way immediately, and would he like a Danish with that? I know of a great bakery just around the corner. Or at least I think it is.

Needless to say, I'm off to face off the carpet god's again tomorrow, business license, tax ID number, birth certificate, passport and references in-hand. I'll scan them through that high-tech laser-beam designer-detector and be in like flint. There's a nice side-street that will be perfect for parking, if memory serves me. I'll be sure to grab a pastry prior to my visit and I'll get a few extras in case I need to do any persuading - about carpet, cars or anything of the sort.

And to think...this morning the name Carpet Giant sounded too impersonal.