When we first moved into our house, as you can imagine, there were many different things we needed to do and purchases we needed to make. So being the project manager that I am, I immediately made a priority list and started figuring out how best to divide and conquer. The list seemed pretty clear to me…

1. Bed (because we had none)
2. Washer and dryer (because we had none)
3. Fridge (because ours broke after the first week)
4. Desk for both of our offices (because we would each be working from home)
5. Furniture like a couch and coffee table

Adam had one additional item to add to the list that he felt should be a top priority purchase:

A safe.

Now I should mention, we basically owned nothing – at least nothing of any real value. So the idea of the safe being that high on the list seemed pretty absurd to me. But I figured marriage is all about compromise, so I may as well throw him a bone. I told him to go ahead and get one if it would make him happy. But he said he felt this really needed to be a joint decision.

A joint decision?

How hard is it to pick up a safe from Home Depot? I told him I had plenty of other things to take care of and I was sure he could handle this one on his own.

About a week later he came back and told me he had done a lot of research and picked out the perfect safe. I said – great…let’s check it off the list! But he said it wasn’t quite that simple. He knew I would love it, but really needed me to come check it out with him before we placed the order. I told him I was sure whatever safe he wanted would be perfectly fine and considering I know absolutely nothing about safes, I can’t imagine I would add anything of value to this desicion making process – JUST TAKE CARE OF IT. But he insisted, and said he just didn’t feel comfortable making a purchase of this magnitude on his own.

A purchase of this magnitude??

Apparently it was a customized non-refundable safe that was “a bit pricey” but would be “totally be worth the investment.”

Okay now I was concerned. I agreed to go with him right away. FORTY FIVE minutes later we arrived at a shady abandoned looking warhouse around the corner from the Lincoln Tunnel. No storefront…more like somewhere Tony Soprano would go to pick out a safe. I didn’t have a good feeling about this, but he assured me it was “legit.”

We walked inside and it was a warehouse filled with more safes than you could ever imagine. We were the only customers there and the salesman greeted us by name. Okay…

“Based on all the specs provided to us, we have picked out a safe that we are confident will fit your needs.”

He proceeded to take us to a VIP back room and show us a 6 foot tall wall unit safe…a vault if you will. The same kind they have in banks. I responded with the only logical comment I could muster: “Umm…there must be some mistake.”

“No ma’am. These are the only safes we offer large enough to accommodate your husband’s shotgun collection. Sir – what size did you say they are?”

To which Adam quietly responded: “So…these are more like hypothetical shotguns,” feeling my burning gaze on him.

And I simply said: “We’re gonna need a minute.”

After some swift deliberations, I made it clear there was no way in hell this was being purchased. That we needed to find a more reasonable safe to suit our very basic needs – and fast – or I was leaving. So we ultimately went with a custom-size, fire-proof safe (probably 3 times the size of one you would find in a hotel room), that needed to be installed into the foundation of the house. Put it this way…if our entire house burned down, all that would remain is this safe.

And to this day I am fairly certain we paid more for it than any of the contents inside. #shmadum