I was waiting for my potential client to arrive  at their house. Seems someone else was waiting for them, too.

This man seemed okay at first. When he started to open his mouth, I knew what I was dealing with. He was a legend in his own mind.

*******

Him: “Well, I just started with Mathis Brothers.”

Me: “Oh, that’s cool.” (Dude, they didn’t tattoo that on your forehead and I didn’t ask.)

Him: “Yeah, I used to work for myself, but I gotta pay the bills so I just started working there.” (You might ask — “Is Mathis Brothers like the McDonald’s for Designers?” Well — Yes.)

Me: “Yep, I know what you mean.”

Him: ”So, do you sew or do you have a workroom for your draperies?”

Me: “I have a workroom. Do you sew?”

Him: “Oh yeah, but if someone wants perfect pinch pleats, then I send it to a workroom.” (I wonder what the market for imperfect pinch pleats are.)

Me: “Oh, that’s cool you can sew. Wish I could sew better.  (At this point, I know bringing up the fact that my last sewing project was a Snuggie probably wouldn’t impress this guy.) Yeah, so I just started my own business a year ago and I’m still working on finding all of my trade resources.”

Him: “Yep. Do you go to L.A. Mart?”

Me: “Uh, no, that’s way too far for me.” (Didn’t mention the huge fear I have of driving in L.A. Don’t ask. I’m weird.)

Him: “Oh. So where do you shop?”

Me: “Oh, well if I had to go somewhere I guess I would go to the Laguna Design Center.” (At this point, I’m not sure if he realizes that the internet can be used to buy resources.)

Him: “Hmm… not familiar with that place. Have you been to the South Plaza?”

Me: “South Plaza? Where’s that?”

Him: “Off the 55.”

Me: “Is it good?”

Him: “Yeah, a lot of nice stuff there.” (It’s not until later when I realize he was talking about South Coast Plaza. A mall. A nice mall, but nonetheless, a mall.)

Me: “How many designers does Mathis Brothers have?”

Him: “Oh, I don’t know. I guess 12. They are hiring a lot more soon.”

Me: “So, are you and a salesman pretty much the same as it goes for commissions?”

Him: “Yeah, whoever gets the ‘up’ gets the commission. If a salesman needs a designer’s help, you negotiate the split.”

Me: “Oh, okay.” (Sounds like fun in a recession.)

Him: “Yeah, well, I am waiting for one of my clients to have me do their home in Utah. Their two billion dollars in reserve isn’t enough money for them to feel secure.”

Me: “Wow, they sound like they have a hard life.”

Him: “Yeah. I hope they just move on that project soon.”

Me: “Do you belong to ASID?”

Him: “No. I have had 3 clients in my 15-year career. Long-term clients.”

Me: “That’s really nice to have such great relationships.”

Him: “Yeah, I have been there for every one of those moments like we know who is cheating on whom and who is sleeping with whom and who just came out of the closet. Yeah, been there for everyone of those.”

Me: “So, do you live at these people’s houses?” (Thinking: what kind of people discuss that kind of crap with their designer???! ‘Hi Mom and Dad and Designer… I’m Gay! So, should I switch out my Star Trek drapes for something in Taffeta?’)

Him: “Yeah, pretty much.”

Me: “What are you doing at their house that you’re there so much?”

Him: “I do a lot of murals.”

Me: “Oh, that’s neat. Does Mathis Brothers carry Brownstone Furniture?”

Him: “No. What is that?” (He asked as if I asked him to hold a booger freshly picked from my nose.)

Me: “Just a furniture line from California. . . . I just thought I had seen a piece of theirs in a retail store and couldn’t remember where.”

Him: “Oh no. Not Mathis Brothers.”

Me: “Yeah, I’m wondering if these people shop at JCPenney’s.”

Him: “Oh. Do they still do custom draperies?”

Me: “Yep, they do.” (Now thinking: does this guy ever get out of the house or read his mail?)

Him: “I haven’t been in a Penney’s in 15 years.” (Really?! Because I could have sworn I just saw that outfit on a mannequin in the Men’s section at a JCP the other day!)

*******

Finally the clients arrive. Our conversation ends. We have to take off our shoes and wear slippers when we go into their house. Okay, I start taking off my shoes. My new friend says: “But I think my socks may be dirty.”

I just died laughing inside! This guy, thinking he was some la-ti-da designer . . . his world came to a crashing halt when he realized he had to go work in the pedestrian world with the rest of us peons. The icing of the godly designers!  His dirty socks were the best gift this day could have brought! I love when posers get what’s coming to them.

*******

Note from the hosts:  Good pal AJW, keeping it real, was nice enough to allow me to reprint this fun little tale.  It was originally published on her blog in April. jb