My sister brought her newest boyfriend over to meet my husband and I. Normally she brought brutish men to my house, so this man surprised me. He looked refined, and I could almost see him on the pages of GQ, but that wasn’t the case. She told me he owned a reupholstering service. When I asked about his business, he started talking about how he took old furniture and made it look new. As long as its bones were broken, he could transform the plain jane furniture into a work of art with some material, batting and some good pins and stitches. I wasn’t sure anyone could do that, especially when I looked at the ratty furniture my kids had used for trampolines. He walked into my living room and told me that the sofa we had was well made. He told me it would take about a month, but I wouldn’t recognize the sofa when he finished reupholstering the sofa. I thanked him for pointing out how bad my furniture looked and started thinking I wished she had brought a brute to my house instead of this pompous fool. I told my sister he may know a lot about the reupholstering business, but he knew nothing about me or my furniture, and he never would. She apologized and tried to tell me he was just nervous, but I didn’t believe it. He owned a reupholstering service, and I was sure he was trying to drum up business for himself. A week later, my sister called and told me she was no longer dating Mr. Reupholstering Service. He started telling her how she should reupholster her living room sofa.