I was under the impression it just involved laying down on a bunch of mattresses and getting the one with the highest spring count that you can afford. That is inaccurate.
My wife and I started out like any other person and couple shopping for a new mattress. We talked to a sales associate, asked a few questions, received some recommendations, then got right to it and started laying down on mattresses. My only concern thus far was resting my head on unsanitary pillows that so many other heads had rested on and that fear was confirmed just by looking over to the next mattress where a man with oil-slicked hair was just getting up. They need to give sanitary pillow covers to mattress shoppers.
After we made a couple of rounds, we were both starting to get bored.
“So which one do you like?” I asked my wife.
“I think I like this one the best. It’s just like a hotel bed,” she said patting the mattress we were on. “This one or the angora wool one.”
“Yeah, I actually like this one too. It’s like sleeping on a cloud. So should we just get this one?”
At this point, my wife starts with one of those bathroom humor-type laughs…the ones where your eyes widen and you cover up your mouth as you can’t help but laugh even though you know it’s immature. “Hey,” she whispers, as she signals me to come closer. “Do you think this will sink too much during sex?”
“Uh I don’t know. Should be okay, right?”
“Like with the Tempur ones, it’s hard to have sex on those because it just sinks and molds to you.”
I remember feeling confused and bewildered at the same time about what she was really trying to say. “So should I just get on my knees or something?”
“Yeah. But I’m going to go stand over there,” she said, pointing to a mattress in another aisle.
“What? No, you can’t leave me here alone.”
“Just try it!” And with that, she hustled off, and I was left sitting by myself on the edge of the bed.
I glanced around and when I finally accepted that someone – a sales associate, a disgruntled husband, an annoyed wife – was going to notice me, I just got on with it. I crawled onto the middle of the bed and then got on my knees. I awkwardly bounced up and down a little and then looked over at my wife, who was watching me, but looked away the moment I met her eyes (I wouldn’t want to be associated with what I just did either). I scrambled off the bed and walked over to her.
“It was okay. It does sink a bit.”
“Well you gotta go try the other one then. And we’ll just choose the one that’s better.”
So I did it again, this time in the center of the entire showroom. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but we got the right mattress in the end. A moment of embarrassment for good sleep and good sex is a fair price to pay.
What did I learn after all this? In addition to spring count and literature about spring count, mattress companies should publish an adjusted spring count measure as it relates to sex. Or something! We’re not a kinky couple by any measure; it’s not like my wife and I went around furniture shops and assumed sex positions on everything we were planning to buy. I never sat her on a dining table or did anything aside from sit myself on various couches. But mattresses are such a natural place to consummate…it’s a reasonable request, isn’t it?
Here’s a visual telling of the story by Key & Peele.