The Marxist's favorite color

So it comes upon us that we are at the paint store. Painting one's shared apartment is the two year anniversary of going to Ikea to furnish said shared habitat.

I had been dreaming of muted metallic paint--neutrality with spark, I thought. I had also been researching low or no VOC paint. VOC stands for volatile organic compound which off-gasses from most paint. There are many everyday products that off gas such as plastics, mattresses, press board, pretty much every thing in your house which leads many people to believe that indoor air pollution is worse than outdoor air pollution. I spent hours talking to the Marxist about these things, and though he usually does not listen to my rantings, apparently he became rather convinced that all this was a good idea.

When we go to the paint store, he is not terribly won over by the faint metallic gold paint, especially when we learn that it cannot be made into no-VOC paint. I haggle with the salesperson, an overly made up lady who seems rather unconvinced it is part of her job description to help me, ironically, her name tag reads "Angel." The Marxist amused himself by flipping through the paint cards. I go over to see what he is up to, hardly recognizing him without a book in his Marxist paw. He says, Let's paint the bedroom this color! I look down at the color swatch and see varying shades of lavender.

I can't believe I have made grown men cry and it has come down to this.

We strike a compromise, gold on the bottom and lavender on top. I just cannot stand the white walls anymore. However, Marxy finds out that I ordered paint not in low VOC and gets so upset, he walks home from the paint store in a Marxist huff, leaving me by myself to lug my gold and cream flocked upholstered chair up three flights of stairs. A feat I accomplish, because I am not my father's daughter for nothing.

I spend all weekend painting our room lavender and gold. When it is all done, it looks rather nice. The Marxist comes back from the cafe and comes into our lavender bedroom. He collapses in my chair and smiles in a way I had not seen since his post-surgery opiate induced euphoria. He giggles like a little boy, "I am so happy!" I think he burbles, he continues, "Look how happy this color is! Don't you think that everyone would love this color? Everyone should have this color in their bedroom, it would make them so happy!"

He believes the dollar will fall, the revolution will come and lavender will make everyone feel good.