Lessons Learned from Ana’s Birthday Presents
1. Storehouse kicks Pottery Barn’s ass
For months now, I’ve been angling to buy a nice queen-size wooden bed frame–ideally in time for Ana’s birthday on June 20, effectively killing two birds with one piece of wood. Yet no matter how many furniture stores I went to, nothing was perfect. The frames from places like Restoration Hardware were nice, but criminally expensive and imperfectly made (faux-wood veneers, plywood boards in the non-visible portions). Ikea was–well, Ikea (semi-stylish and practically free, but cheaply made and Scandinavian). Antique auctions seemed promising, but the few I went to didn’t pan out and I couldn’t invest the time commitment to go to more. Penn Forsale (both the newsgroup and the message board) and Craig’s list were also, in turn, promising and disappointing. So, I was thrilled when, on our way to the wedding invite lady, we stopped into Storehouse, a furniture store in Bryn Mawr. The pieces were all handmade, incredibly high quality, and priced right smack between Ikea and Pottery Barn. A bonus: The shipping charge is a moderate $85 for anything under $2,500. We found ourselves suddenly in need of just about every furniture option in the store: console tables, sofa chairs, china cabinets. We settled on an $899 bed frame, for which we got an additional 10% off by signing up for a credit card. Remarkably, the price ended up being $100 less than the cheapest bed I saw at Costco!
2. If you’re scouting restaurants in Jersey, check out The Artful Diner.
When we decided to go to Jersey for Ana’s bday/Father’s Day, we knew it meant sacrificing our plan for a fancy birthday dinner in Philly. Still, I didn’t want to scrap the idea entirely. I set out to research restaurants in North Jersey, but with Zagats now a pay website and little help from ana’s brother, it was proving impossible to find something classier than Benihana’s. Then www.artfuldiner.com graced my Google search. The website is run by the food critic for New Jersey Online. His reviews are often lengthy–and, sure, there’s a little mental masturbation going on–but by and large his comments are exceptionally helpful. Thanks to the A.D., I was able to treat Ana to one of the finest meals I’ve ever had in the Garden State, a three-course Prixe Fixe at the Stage House Inn, in Scotch Plains.
3. I need to stop accompanying Ana to shoe stores.
The reason? I’m getting too damn good at shoe shopping. Sickeningly good at it. To explain: For Ana’s final bday gift, I picked out a pair of red Mary Jane-like flats at Macy’s, which I thought Ana might like, given past browsing history (and I had a fat coupon, which didn’t hurt). Still, she’s way picky about shoes, and went on three fruitless shopping expeditions this weekend, so I wasn’t optimistic. Suffice it to say that I was shocked when she declared, “yeah, these are just right.” For a second, I gloated over how astute a women’s shoe shopper I’d become. But then the buyer’s euphoria wore off and I just felt pathetic. When did I start caring about women’s shoes? Hell, when did I start caring about men’s shoes.
You’ve entered dangerous territory, Ted. Next thing you know, you’ll be the new host of “What Not to Wear.”
A Bed for your birthday! Geez, you’ve got to have a word with Matt for me. Last birthday all I got was a CD he’d already listened to and a 10% off coupon for the Outback Steakhouse. Ted Mann, you sure know how to treat a lady.
Why yes, kind friend, I sure do.
For the record, Ana likes to point out that the bed was for me, too. Actually, “for us” is what she likes to say. True. But then so is most of the crap we own. I maintain that it was my biting the bullet on the bedframe, and deciding to make a decisive purchase (rather than searching aimlessly for another couple months), that was Ana’s real gift. But I got her a couple CDs and the South Beach Diet book, just to hedge my bets. I think there’s no question that George Michael, “Patience,” was unequivocally “for her.”
Any man who buys me the “South Beach Diet” book, is a dead one.
Any woman who makes me listen to two hours of George Michael deserves it.