The little table that almost wasn't

On Sunday afternoon I went down the street to an expensive little store...Chintz and Company. It's a pricey decorating store, lots of furniture, mirrors, dishes, cushions, fabric...the store is literally packed with merchandise. You have to be very careful going through the aisles so you don't accidentally knock something over. They have lovely stuff, but it's packed in so tightly it's often hard to see things.
They've had a sale on since the beginning of the year...maybe they're finally clearing it out?...I'd been in before and it is expensive stuff, but I thought I'd check out the sale. Sale is the greatest word in the English language by the way.
I found a lamp for my bedroom and a little heart shaped side table. I bought the lamp immediately, but they didn't have a price on the table, they asked me to call back Monday to give them time to find a price for it. No problem there.
Monday I called and they gave me the price...a little pricey even on sale, but it is lovely and it was the perfect size, I told them to hold it for me til Tuesday when I'd pick it up.
I had an appointment Tuesday evening, I left work early and fit in a trip to the store before the app't. I got there about 3:30. It was packed with stuff and people this time. I'd never seen it so busy. I think that's when all the rich ladies who lunch and designers must shop.
Finally, my turn at the front of the line arrived. I told the clerk that I was there to pick up the little heart shaped table they were holding for me.
The woman behind me piped up with 'That's my sister's table'. I said it wasn't, it was mine. She said no, it was her sister's, her sister had talked to a staff member about it and was going to buy it. She offered to go to the fabric dept and get her sister so that we could get into some fisticuffs. She actually used the word fisticuffs.

Yes, she offered to start a fight right there in the store.

I explained that there would be no fisticuffs, as I'd seen the table on the floor on Sunday and it was on hold for me. At that point, the clerk came back with the hold sheet from the table. It had my name on it in big print. She showed it to me and the woman behind me. The woman was a bit distraught for her sister, but admitted that it was indeed my table. Her sister would 'be really mad, but would have to live with it.' Damn straight honey.

I've had people ask me where I found something, or complimented me on something I'm purchasing, but I've never had some one offer to start a fight over something I'm buying.

The table looks lovely by my reading chair.