Beech Tree News Network

Last January, I bought myself a new dining room table and chairs.  I bought only six chairs at the time, because they were a bit pricey.  This past September, I decided to go ahead and purchase two more chairs in order to complete the set.

I went to Macon’s Furniture store, where I bought the original six.  I had the receipt from January, as well as a picture of the chairs on my cell phone—I wanted to make sure I got the right ones.  A sales associate at the store told me the chairs would be a special-order item, and it would be about eight weeks before they would arrive at their warehouse.  I told her I wanted them by Christmas, so that time frame would work.  

When the chairs arrived, I was contacted by Macon’s and told I would have to pick them up at their warehouse, not their store location.  The warehouse is located in the downtown area of Bowling Green.  I was given the address on Beller Street and told it was within sight of the old River Track warehouse.  I said I knew where that warehouse was located then set up a time to pick up the chairs.

The day and appointment time came, so I drove to the downtown area, passed the River Track warehouse and turned onto Beller Street, where I drove slowly, looking right and left for any sign of Macon’s Furniture warehouse.  I found none.

The downtown area has fallen into disrepair since the days I first moved to the area.  There are many abandoned buildings and dilapidated warehouses, a stark contrast to the shiny showroom floor of the furniture store.  The GPS on my phone was flashing the red pin point that signaled I had arrived at my destination.  I looked to the right, just an abandoned lot there.  I looked to my left, an empty store front with a simple “Beware of Dog” sign in the large front window.  Okay, something was obviously wrong with my GPS, I thought.  I’d just have to find it on my own.

I circled around in front of River Track once more then turned again onto Beller Street.  Aside from an elderly man in a tattered jacket, making his way down the sidewalk, there was no sign of life or activity anywhere.  I passed the “Beware of Dog” window once again then decided to pull over and call the furniture store.  I checked to make sure my windows were rolled up and my doors were locked.  I punched the numbers into my cell phone.

“Macon’s Furniture,” a pleasant voice answered.

“This is Cheryl Hughes,” I said, “I have an appointment to pick up two chairs at your warehouse downtown, and I can’t seem to find anything in the area with a “Macon’s Furniture” sign.   

“Did you pass a building with a “Beware of Dog” sign in the window?” the voice asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“That’s it,” she said, “And don’t worry, there is no dog.”

I started to ask if there was a secret knock, but decided not to be snarky.  I thanked her instead, circled around in front of River Track once more, and pulled into the small drive in front of the large window.  Before I unbuckled my seat belt, the ridiculousness of the whole scenario hit me, and I chuckled to myself at the genius of disguising a furniture store on the wrong side of the tracks with an abandoned store front and a “Beware of Dog” sign.  I was still grinning as I opened the front door.

There were two very solemn-looking guys standing at attention behind the two chairs I had ordered.  They looked as if they had been holding that position for hours.  “Are you Cheryl Hughes?” the younger one asked.

“Are you Dog?” I wanted to ask, but decided he probably wouldn’t get it, so I sad “yes” and pointed to my car.  “I folded down the seats, so it shouldn’t be any problem getting the chairs in,” I said.

“Has there ever been a dog?” I asked.  Both guys looked at me blankly then the older one shook his head “no.”

They loaded my chairs, I thanked them, checked my windows and door locks once more then pulled out of the drive.  I got that same eerie feeling Tom Hanks’ character got in the “Da Vinci Code” when he realized he had stumbled upon an ancient secret society.  

For this story, I’ve changed the names of the furniture store, the adjoining warehouse, and the street, just to be on the safe side.  You can be none too careful of dogs that don’t exist.