Say Yes!

I'm sitting here at my desk in a new leather swivel chair. Padded arms and body, adjustable height, easy rolling casters, comfy and elegant. Made for me. But I didn't ask for it. I didn't look for it this morning. Just went into Staples to get some Christmas letter paper.

I always allow myself time to look around in stores like that, even after I've found the one or two things on my list. I didn't really need the chair, but my old one had never been comfortable, no matter how many pads I put on it. My daughter had often said, "Mom, you need a new chair," but I hadn't given it much thought. Then along came "Black Friday," the day people lined up outside the big stores, standing in the cold wee hours of the morning to rush in first and grab the bargains. Nothing could have enticed me to do that! Anyway, there was nothing I needed.

So now it is the following Monday. The sales are over, but I've found my paper at Staples and out of the corner of my eye I spot this little chair. It stands out as if it had a sign with my name on it. But no, surely I couldn't afford that gem! I look at the tag. $100. Not a bad price. I look at another plainer one with no arms. I sit in it. Not anything special. So I try the little gem. It's a Goldilocks "just right" thing. I think, Gee, it costs no more than a couple of dinners out with the family, even less. I see a clerk and say, "I'll take it." When I get ready to pay the cashier the register rings up $50. plus cost of warranty, construction and tax.  I'm afraid the cashier has made a mistake. She's on the phone double checking on the price. "It's on sale?" I ask, holding my breath. She puts down the phone. "Yes, half price," she says smiling. "Still on sale."

The salesman hadn't told me that. Maybe he didn't know. He's still beside me though, waiting to carry it out to my car. We walk out together, he tucks it in neatly, I thank him, and drive home with the wheels of my car a foot off the ground. When I get home and try it out I think to myself, If Barnes & Noble had carried the kind of writing paper I wanted (they didn't) and the clerk there had not suggested Staples, I'd have been sitting in my old uncomfortable chair right now writing about something else.

I shouldn't be surprised. Things like that happen to me often. Why? I'm not sure, but I think it's my ability to say yes. Also, I don't want many things but they come to me often before I even look for them. And when they do I almost never say, "I think I'll go home and think it over." When I see something I know is right for me I just buy it as long as I can afford it. No shopping around, comparing prices. And never needing to take anything back.

I could tell about many a purchase I've made that way, but the principle can be illustrated with larger decisions too. Wally G, my husband, used to tease me in later years about his proposal to me. "I was scared you might say no, or something like, 'Can you wait for me to finish my last two years of college?' If you had, I think I'd have let you go. I wanted to come before anything. It's my darn pride. But you, - I no more than got the words out, 'Will you marry...' and you said, 'Yes!'"

I wonder now if I ever told him that my answer wasn't as spontaneous as he supposed. I had decided he would be mine long before he got the question out.