And the Story goes on…

After a frustrating morning waiting for the new couch to arrive, it turned up at 1.45.

We crossed our fingers and held our breath as they approached the front door. This was the first hurdle. One that has failed before, as some couches refuse to be shoved through a narrow doorway.

It sailed through the door. A huge sigh of relief! and was soon sitting in our living room. The couch was wrapped up like a mummy, so we couldn’t tell if it was the right colour or even the right couch. We expected the men to remove the wrapping, but they said no, and seemed in a great hurry to get away.

That should have warned us, and in a way, I suppose it did set the scene for what happened next.

There were four layers of cardboard, bubble wrap and sheets of plastic, all wrapped tightly around the couch. It took us nearly half an hour to remove it all.

Once revealed, it was the right couch and the right colour, but something didn’t look right. When we ordered it, we made sure the length was right and that the seat depth was adequate. It was the right length, but the seat depth had been reduced by the oversized back cushions. There was literally not much to sit on, even for Anita, who is shorter than me. I just looked plain ridiculous sitting on it.

Our mood had plummeted, and for a while, we didn’t talk. Disappointment is a terrible thing, and thinking of a solution is a bit of a problem for the disappointed mind.

I mean, picture the scenario. We had this new couch in our living room, and our old faithful, who had been this route before, was outside in the front garden.

We needed to return the new couch and bring the old faithful back in. But we couldn’t put the new one out in the garden, now could we?

My office is not a large room, and it doubles as a dining/craft/sewing room with a useful table. What if I dismantled the table? Could we store the new couch in there until they came for it?

To cut the story short, this is what we did. Mister Muscles was at work, so two geriatric and disappointed women hauled that horrible couch into the office. It didn’t leave much room, but it was safe. Even with the best will in the world, there was no way we could manhandle old faithful back in. Years ago, we would have given it our best shot, but not now. It would have to wait until MM came home.

It was threatening to rain, so I thought I had better retrieve all that wrapping, but as I wrestled with it all, a gust of wind grabbed the plastic sheet out of my arms, and it flew into the road, looking like an enormous sail. I shrieked for Anita, envisaging the biggest traffic pile-up. One of our new neighbours got there first and helped me. Such a lovely way to meet new people!

At least it made us all laugh, something we sorely needed right then. Will we be looking for a new couch again? I think not, I would rather sit on the floor…

11 thoughts on “And the Story goes on…

  1. Well done for struggling on your own. It seems obvious that the seat isn’t deep enough. It looks odd. How can anyone design something like that?

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