Monday, September 25, 2006

Sometimes, Only a Hag Will Do

My big beautiful furniture from Ikea arrived earlier this week. The first day, I managed to put together the big, heavy, sleek coffee table that had no instructions. The drawers don't fit, but I've got an idea on some strategies. It may involve some Vaseline and a Venti extra-dark roast at an opportune time, but I'll bring it all together.

It's fine with me that Ikea furniture doesn't come with instructions. It only comes with a little-bitty booklet with step-pictures. I imagine it's because Ikea is based in Sweden where they speak at least twelve European languages; quite unlike Americans who can only speak rudimentary English and "Rap."

Frankly, I much prefer the directions be based in pictures rather than twelve different languages. I'm a completely spacial-type of guy. I bombed Algebra I and II, and aced geometry. Giving verbal directions will cause my eyes to glaze over; just give me the address, let me glance at Mapquest, and I'll be there. Five minutes ahead of time.

So, whenever I see directions provided in twelve various languages, I can rest assured that NONE of the directions will be accurate in any language with which I can decipher: Place part B-63 in screw nut P-24X turn but not down clockwise slide upward Do Not!! Repeat step 2-B at length part B-64.

Tonight, The Hag and I planned our usual Sunday evening out together:

1. Dinner at Chili's: Three appetizer-samplers, salads and drinks. The Hag and I are completely okay with double-dunkin'.

2. Shopping at our downtown grocery market with my big 'granny cart' so that we'd be able to wheel everything back. (Chili's checked my 'granny cart' at the coat rack)

3. Back to Iwanski's apartment to unload the granny-cart, feed the cats.
Pudding cups were administered.
Iwanski also tweaked my blog which was awfully nice.
The Bears had won something which was awfully nice.

4. Back to my place (one block away) with the granny-cart.
I kicked the granny-cart with my big feet. A cabbage fell out along the way onto the sidewalk and almost tumbled into the river. I caught it just in time.

Note to self: Must wash off the cabbage

It turns out that The Hag (i.e. Miss Healthy-Pants) had been employed by a furniture establishment during college and had a LOT of experience at assembling put-together furniture. Wow!

I didn't expect that.

Miss Healthy-Pants-slash-The Hag suddenly became Miss Furniture-Assembly-Pants.

OOoo. We arrived at my apartment which contained three huge, multi-hundred-pound plastic wrapped boxes. My entire apartment smelled like a brand-new set of Tinker-Toys.

Miss Furniture-Assembly-Pants kicked into high gear and, frankly, she scared me a bit.

I hadn't even thought about dis-assembling my sad little futon, but within minutes, Miss Furniture-Assembly-Pants had me unscrewing everything in sight and carrying the remnants into the stairway. Every time I tried to re-enter my apartment, Miss Furniture-Assembly-Pants had more bits of my futon at the front door for me to carry away.

While I was littering several floors of my apartment building with remnants of a futon, I could hear Miss Furniture-Assembly-Pants ripping, shredding, slicing the packing material away from the three huge boxes that contained my Ikea sofa/sleeper/chaise lounge. Every time I returned to my apartment entrance, I'd hear these awful, loud ripping sounds of cardboard, packing material, and plastic wrapping being flung about my apartment. This was a woman on a mission!!

During the next two hours, Miss Furniture-Assembly-Pants got me to shove-n-screw more furniture, coffee tables, and modern rugs than I'd ever thought imaginable.

I didn't think it was possible, but with the help of Miss Furniture-Assembly-Pants, we assembled 272 kgs of Swedish put-together furniture, arranged and re-arranged rugs and switched and re-switched heavy accessories.

She required two slices of pizza and then went home.

I did strip one big bolt; the only casualty. I'll just need to ensure that no one slams against the far left side of the sofa. I'll need to keep that in mind.

I'll need to wait a while before posting pics yet of my new fantastic living room. (I'll do that soon)

But here are two pics of what Miss Furniture-Assembly-Pants can do within ten minutes.

Bottom line: Don't ever mess with Miss Furniture-Assembly-Pants!

4 Comments:

At 10:51 AM , Blogger Lorraine said...

So filing this information away under "Stuff to Remember Next Time I Go to Ikea". Huzzah for Miss Jill-of-all-Pants.

 
At 12:40 PM , Blogger Jon said...

Whenever anything says, "Some assembly required," it's always nice to have someone you love nearby.
Actually, it's essential.

 
At 6:39 PM , Blogger Elaine Wheat said...

Buck, I'm trying to respond one last time. I love your Goliad blog. Such memories and we hated every minute of them. I wonder how long it takes for horrible times to turn to happy times and I realize what a blessing that is or you would be an only child. Love the "Blue Room" as in White House. Many little steps make hugh strides. L and P Mom

 
At 7:41 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

I enjoyed putting that stuff together with you, dooder!!

Love,

Poodle :)

 

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