"Yeah, well, MY mattress is EXTRA firm" (and other odd snobberies)

The phrase in the thread title was overheard in Bed Bath & Beyond.

And I thought: What a weird thing to be superior about.

I mean, it isn’t the first time I’ve heard people debating the relative merits of mattress firmness. Consumer Reports did a cover story on mattresses recently, and one of the subjects they considered was whether or not a firmer mattress is really better for your back, as might be concluded from casual rumor. (Their tentative conclusion: probably not, but it depends.) And yes, there’s a wide variety of personal preference. Some people like their mattress to be a huge sack of poofy lint; others want to stretch out on a slab. Different strokes, and all that.

But: being snobby about it? Really? Are you supposed to be healthier because you have a firm mattress? Or does it suggest you’re tougher that you don’t need to be, I don’t know, coddled, or whatever, by your sleeping surface?

I became so preoccupied by this thought that I completely forgot why I’d gone into the store, and wound up at the register with something completely other than what I’d actually gone in intending to purchase.

But I have to ask: Why would somebody have this attitude about their frickin’ mattress? And is there anything weirder than that to be snooty about?

I’d explain it, but I’m too busy sitting on my extra fluffy pillow.

Huh - someone was boasting about the firmness of their mattress? They should get a life. It’s only a matter of personal preference.

Having said that, once we bought an uber-firm mattress, my chronic back pain went completely away. I had the pain from age 19 through 35, and it’s gone for good, baby. So the extra-firm route was good for me.

I’ll always remember being in Tiffany’s in San Francisco (just looking), and hearing one customer haughtily declare that she was only interested in “100% lead crystal.” Presumably she’d been drinking from it for years.

I know I’m going to spark an outrage here, but it’s OK.

Organic vegetables.

Were you at the Supermall, or the one in Southcenter? Because I heard similar arguments at both of those stores. Weirdness.

One of the weird things my old roommate used to feel superior about: sickness. If I feel sick, I get quiet and slow down a bit. I don’t feel like talking much. However, unless I’m violently ill, I still get up and do my chores, etc. So, one day, I felt terrible, and I looked just as bad. I was ashen, shaking a little bit, eyes looked tired. I looked sick. It was roomies turn to do the dishes, but she was out somewhere. They had to be done or I would go insane. So, I just did them, without complaint. Roomie comes home while I’m up to my elbows in greasy dishwater. She starts chatting right away about all the things she bought (with my money, not even going to get into that one right now), and then she stops short and looks at me curiously. She asks what’s the matter with me. I told her I wasn’t feeling well. Suddenly, she sits down at the table, and begins telling me how terribly sick she is right now, and how awful she felt driving home, and how she feels like she would be sick right this minute, and how she’s glad I’m doing the dishes because she doesn’t think she can lift a finger. And that she’s been feeling like this all week. I must have got a little bit of it from her, she says. I should be thankful for my health, she says. Then she asks if I can clean the fridge and mop up the floor while she takes a nap. (Emphasis hers, by the way, not mine.)

Okay.

It wasn’t just her, that was the weird thing. A lot of the women I worked with seemed to take pride in just how sick they could be. They could be sicker than you, by jove. They could take more meds than anyone else! Oh yes. I don’t know how these women got to work every single day, they were so brave.

Other odd things people felt superior about: how sunburnt they could get, how nice their front doors were (yeah, the door on your house… they compared doors), how bright the headlights were on their cars (sheesh), and one of my favourites, again, from my roomie: “Well, I only eat off of crystal plates.” She was a Princess House dealer. Shee-yeeeeesh! I understand supporting the company you work for, but seriously. She lives in a trailer stuffed with lead crystal crap. High class mama! Oh, yes, and she says, “I prefer gold over everything else.” I heard this first when I mentioned I liked silver while we were gazing at necklaces in a jewelry store. I understand having a preference… I have one, myself… but she says this to everyone, especially when they mentioned they liked something she considers “below” gold. Oh, and gems? Rubies? Sapphires? Emeralds? Pearls? She scoffs at you. Only diamonds for the lady.

Gosh, I miss her. It was like watching cartoons, living with her. :smiley:

My amp goes to eleven!

I once casually asked my SIL if she had ever stopped at a particular ice cream stand/store/roadside thingie and how I thought their prices were really reasonable.

She says in such a condescending voiceThat’s how my brain translated it cause I’m a woman and all.: I don’t like soft serve ice cream.

She also likes to let me know her tastes in things like: *I don’t like hot drinks. * and I only wear night gowns..

Mind you, all she drinks is Diet Coke ( probably a 6 pack+ a day and the sides of her teeth- when you see her profile-, are brown. She’s 36. Eeeechhhhhhh.)

That’s her! That’s her! That’s my roomie! :eek:

Okay, so she never lived in San Francisco. But she has been there before… and would make sure she went to Tiffany’s (so she could tell people back home “I only shopped at Tiffany’s.”) and she’s the kind of girl to declare loudly, to make sure everyone heard, “I only want 100% lead crystal.”

But then she’d add: “I work for Princess House. I know what I’m talking about.” snoot snoot snoot

A friend of ours once asked if we’d like to go back to her home in the Philippines on vacation for the winter. She said she’s was from Manila. Roomie claps her hands and says we must go, she’s always wanted to go to Manila. Since I know very little about the Philippines and Manila, I asked her what was special about it. She says, “Don’t you know? It’s the fashion capital of the world!” I told her she was thinking of Milan… in Italy. She insisted she was right.

I ended up not going, since I just didn’t have the funds, and she went. When she came back, all she would talk about was how stylish the people in Manila were. All the clothes she bought there, she made sure to tell everyone, “It’s what everyone in Manila is wearing.” But hey, what do I know about fashion? Maybe Manila is the fashion capital of her world. :wink:

This story would have been better if it had ended with you throwing up on your roomie, or at least sneezing a sinus-full of really disgusting snot onto her :stuck_out_tongue:

Well, my mattress is extra medium. So, There! :stuck_out_tongue:

My Velvet Elvis has real rhinestones!

sticks nose in air and flounces off

Honestly. I work with a couple of people who can’t get enough of comparing the horrificness of their manicure sessions: “He sliced up TWO of my cuticles!” “Well, MY manicurist amputated my entire thumb!”

If the only thing a person has to be proud of is a mattress, or dishes, or mangled nails, then that person should get a hobby or something, 'cause that’s just sad.

Don’t know if this is how it worked in high schools other than mine, but there used to be all these girls (we called them the Slice 'n Dice Gang) who ran around the place flaunting where they’d cut themselves with a razor blade or penknife, presumably because of all the “pain” they were experiencing in their lives.

“Behold my scar. This is how I externalize my emotional pain when boys dump me.”

“Mine’s bigger, see. My daddy wouldn’t let me go out clubbing in that new see-through tube top of mine, so I cut myself to show him who’s boss.”

“Me, I sliced my foot off. Daddy wouldn’t shell out for a new phone. I mean, it’s been a whole WEEK since my last one! WOE IS ME!”

Some of them were pretty as hell, too. But ogdamn were they creepy.

My mom and I got into an argument once because she insisted that I simply must use Kosher salt instead of regular boxed salt when preparing meals. She swore up and down that people don’t need iodine in their diet (whether or not that’s true, I’m not certain, but I thought salt was iodized for a reason), and that Kosher was just better. She wouldn’t even tell me why she thought that - did it taste better, is it better for you, have you read something about it, what?

Anyway, she got mad at me for questioning her, but still rolls her eyes when she sees me use regular salt. :rolleyes:

People are snobby over really stupid things sometimes.

That’s one of those things I’d have to see/feel to believe. :dubious:

Now, that’s classy! Much better than that Princess House crap.

My dust bunnies are made from real bunny fur. :smiley:
That makes me feel really sophistimacated. But my mattress is just average.

Are you absolutely sure they said “mattress”?

My stuff COST more than your stuff. My stuff isn’t necessarily of better quality, but it is presumed to be so because it COST more. Therefore, my stuff is better than your stuff.

BMW and Gucci make a good living off of these people.

Anytime to can spur the greed or vanity of the American public, you are in a good position to make a fortune.

Viva Las Vegas!!!

My little sister has done the whole mattress superiority thing (among others) her whole life. Granite is softer than her mattress and I’m some sort of degenerate because I prefer medium. If I ever told her I liked a soft mattress, she might have me abducted for deprogramming.

And Mom, it’s perfectly normal that I sleep past four a.m. and only clean house once a week.

We used to work with a married couple, and if ill health was ever mentioned for any reason, the wife would just have to go on and on about how much poor Wayne suffered and never complained - if he was present, he’d just sit there and try to assume an expression of noble, selfless, silent suffering. We used to joke that a typical conversation with her would go:
“I’ve got the sniffles. I hope I’m not getting a cold”
“Well, Wayne has had double pneumonia for the last 15 weeks, but he still comes in to work every day. You know, he died three times last night, but he’s not one to complain. Don’t talk to me about sniffles! Not after what that poor man has suffered.”

I hated them both passionately. Actually, I don’t need the d in the second word in the previous sentence.