Back in 2001, when I moved into my house, I had a "roommate" who had a complete collection of furniture. All I had was a couch and a coffee table. One weekend, while attempting to gain some semblance of order in the house, I decided to move my couch out of the entry way and put it into the master bedroom, which had more than enough space.
The problem is my hallway is very narrow and the couch is very big. Not heavy, exactly, just wide and long.
My first attempted ended with the thermostat and smoke detector being forcibly removed from their wall locations.
The next attempt took over two hours, required the dismantling of half of the house and half of the couch and by some grace of God, the damn thing just popped in to the doorway. I was so exhausted I just curled up on the floor and took a nap.
I have always said that the only way I could remove the couch from the bedroom was to do it in pieces. Last night I was proven correct.
It started innocently enough; I just wanted to see if I could get it out of the bedroom. Then I let a little burr get up my butt and it became a mission. You should never get between a man and his mission. Trust me.
Anyway, again I dismantled half of the couch and half of the house but for the life of me, I could not figure out how to reverse the entry process.
After about an hour, I just got plain pissed off because the couch had started fighting back.
First it cut a chunk out of my finger with a staple.
Then it poked a hole in my wall.
Things were about to get ugly. In one final assault, the couch pinned by wrist against the door jamb, which resulted, I'm sure, in a slight fracture:
It's hard to tell, but that's my wrist and hand and it's not usually so round and puffy.
Since I actually like my neighbors and it was about 10:00pm, I decided against the chain saw. What a dumb-ass. Neighbors be damned…
I pulled out my hatchet and a hand saw and started doing a bit of surgery. After more than a little bit of banging, ripping, stomping, whining ( actually a lot of whining ), this is the result ( after removal from my bedroom ):
And that couch won't bother me again.
Next time, I'll try not to be so stupid as to get something of that size in there to start with.
So I was having coffee with my friend Bruce Wittenberg this morning and was describing the events of my previous evening ( see next post ).
I mentioned something about being:
big, dumb, and stupid
to which Bruce replies:
Oh, a perfect storm.
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