An occasionally updated chronicle of estate sales in the city and suburbs of Chicago.

"It's such a guilty pleasure..." Lynne Stiefel, Pioneer Press


Monday, October 26, 2009

Elmwood Park His 'n' Hers

When they moved in, they struck a deal. He told her she could do whatever she wanted with the house, as long as he could have the basement.

She put a lot of work into the living room, making sure everything was just right.

Finding those lamps took her simply forever.

He even let her go wild with the bedroom. What did he care how it looked? Ninety-nine percent of the time he was in there, his eyes were closed.

But truth be told, all that pastel floral got to be a bit much at times. He could understand the curtains and the matching bedspread. He'd seen that at a hotel once, and it was kind of classy. But the lamp shade, too? That thing ended up costing him a fortune.

Then she went and did the tissue holder and the curtain rings. And the lotion dispenser and the toothbrush holder. It all matched. Right down to the little pastel rose-shaped guest soaps.

Sometimes, he felt like he was living in a damned Easter egg.

That's when he'd go down to the basement.

She never went down there.

Said it looked like a barroom...

... that had made love to a garage.

She hated that place.

Especially that sofa.

No comments :

Post a Comment

Related Posts with Thumbnails