That’s what happens when couples shop together. I see it all the time. I go to these furniture stores, weekend after weekend after interminable weekend. Know what I see? That’s right. Couples. They descend escalators wordlessly, looking more distressed than the faux-French country antique tables at least one of them wishes they would buy. Why? Because a table has gotten the better of them. (Advice to newlyweds: Never, ever let a piece of furniture become a symbol — unless you can afford one that talks.)

I know a guy who never even saw his house before he moved into it. He got a new job halfway across the country. His wife went out there, looked at houses, found one she liked, he said fine, and, without him ever setting eyes on it, they packed up and off they went.

Now, that is the way nature meant for men and women to shop.

As it happens, we did finally buy a table. But after it was delivered, we decided its color wasn’t dark enough and its chairs were too large. We sent it back.

I think we’ll just throw a few pillows on the floor.