Bjursta Tuesday December 5, 2006

So for the past month the apartment has been stuck in a massive furniture deficit. The kitchen table is a ratty guitar case and a couple of file boxes. The television stand has transformed into two wobbly stools and my bedroom dresser is a large Tupperware container filled with photos. It’s pretty ghetto and it’s been driving Phil and myself to the brink of insanity.

But all that’s about to change. Because a couple of weeks ago I went and purchased brand new furniture. All that crap is starting to be delivered. But unlike before when I was a struggling student I made a concerned effort not to completely re-furnish the joint with IKEA. Instead, I went to a real furniture stores and bought grown up shit. Stuff that a struggling consultant should be buying. It was like some lame ass Fight Club rebellion against being an IKEA slave. It’s like the Real Unit says – reclaiming some element of my manhoodiness.

But since I’m a pretty broke consultant, it also means I have to assemble this shit myself. So today I’ve enlisted Gerry to give me a hand. It’s been seven or eight years since Gerry and myself built furniture. I use the term Gerry and myself loosely. Because assembling furniture really consisted of Dad sitting on the couch puffing on cigarettes, sipping cups of tea and casually pointing out that it was all just simply trigonometry, my dear Connor. All of this while I pried the screw driver and/or hammer out from the side of my thumb.

Ah, but today the tables have turned. Because Gerry’s in my bloody kitchen. There will be no smoking. There will be no cups of tea. It’s just Gerry, myself and a hurling stick. And if the old codger gets out line. WHAM!

The New Furniture

update: Cups of tea consumed by Gerry – three. Amount of effort done by Gerry – none. Number of times Gerry tried to sneak in a cigarette – three.

Categories: The-Pop-Culture, The-Humourous, The Random, The Soapbox, The Urban, The World

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