Broken Couch, Broken Dreams
Posted by Munch on November 19, 2007
If you’re like me, and let’s hope you are, you have unintentionally done some terrible things to people you care about. Whether you took the last delicious Coke from the fridge, betrayed your teammate during a sweet online session of Halo 3, or set fire to your high school buddy’s grandma’s garage, you probably either did all of things without the desire to hurt someone’s feelings or without even being aware that you did.
My latest failure at life centers on the damage done to my girlfriend’s couch. This is a really nice sofa that also includes a sleeper bed within it. The upholstery has a nice velvety feel, the cushions are deep, and it is long enough for a comfortable nap. Also, she has not had anything larger than a love seat for all the while she’s been living on her own. She’s never been able to stretch out and take a nap in her own living room. This couch was, in fact, the culmination of years of yearning, months of saving, and literally twelve minutes of shopping. So after she paid over $800 for this brand new couch that was practically a lifetime in coming, used it for all of 5 weeks, and had every intention of having it for at least the next 10 years or more, why wouldn’t I do something monumentally stupid to ruin it forever?
In truth, what caused the destruction was a harmless act that I had seen and performed hundreds of times before. Whether it was at a friend’s home, in the friendly and relaxed atmosphere of a wine and cheese gathering, or on an episode of FRIENDS, this harmless act had never achieved such disastrous results.
So what did I do? Why, I sat on the armrest! I was reading the back of a DVD cover and suddenly, without warning, *K-K-KRAAAK!!!* It only took a few minutes before the armrest could no longer support me. I think a heard what sounded like a sigh of relief beneath the cracking, as though the pain was finally going away because its life was ending.
Holy fucking shit, I broke a goddamn couch by sitting on the one place that was designed to support nothing more than an arm. And while, yes, I resemble Greg Grunberg in that everyman shlubby way, I apparently have much more going on in this bloated crumbling temple of a body than I thought.
Now I’ve got a call out to a furniture repair man.
I’m glad I’m moronic enough to sustain you a little bit longer, Credit Card Debt! I can’t wait to keep you in my life for a few extra months! And hey, you, in the mirror…! Get to the gym!!!
Good grief.
