There it stands, almost hidden between a credenza and a bookcase. It glows with its glossy sheen and dark mahogany stain. The front curves gently, slightly in, then out, then in again. Each of its six roomy drawers is adorned with chunky but simple silver rings. Its elegant legs lift it just enough to make it seem lighter, though there is no mistaking that this bureau has presence.
I am in love.
Hesitantly, I approach the price tag. How much can such a magnificent piece of furniture possibly cost?
$400.
$400?
$400!
Delight- it will be mine.
It is wrapped, wheeled out and deposited (without much care) into our truck, and home it comes.
Once home, however, my excitement vanishes. It seems to have grown, and gained some weight as well. Had we purchased a pregnant dresser? How are we ever going to get it out of the truck, let alone up a split set of stairs to our room?
Annoyance.
Then, brilliance! We take out the drawers! But, no. The drawers cannot be removed.
Angst.
So, with tools in hand, we begin to operate. First, the backing must come off. No solution immediately presents itself. We circle, peer, jiggle and poke. Some other screws come out, but his is no help.
More operating. The runners must be unscrewed at the back to let each drawer lift free in front. Six times, we wrench each drawer out, each time praying that the wood will hold and that nothing breaks under stress. Finally, it can be moved. Down the ramp, through the door, up the first flight of stairs to the little landing (pant, wheez, curse...), then onto its side to make it around the corner and up the rest of the stairs on end, one step at a time (pant, pant, pant...). At last, down the hall and through the door it is placed in its spot in the bedroom. One more disappointment- it is too long to fit between the two doors. It will just have to cover some of the frame.
I am tired- exhausted actually. My finger throbs from being smashed by a drawer. My arms feel lifeless and are sure to be sore for days. There is a dull pain growing in my head, my shoulders ache and I feel a little dizzy.
The fondness is gone.
I hate you, dresser.
I am in love.
Hesitantly, I approach the price tag. How much can such a magnificent piece of furniture possibly cost?
$400.
$400?
$400!
Delight- it will be mine.
It is wrapped, wheeled out and deposited (without much care) into our truck, and home it comes.
Once home, however, my excitement vanishes. It seems to have grown, and gained some weight as well. Had we purchased a pregnant dresser? How are we ever going to get it out of the truck, let alone up a split set of stairs to our room?
Annoyance.
Then, brilliance! We take out the drawers! But, no. The drawers cannot be removed.
Angst.
So, with tools in hand, we begin to operate. First, the backing must come off. No solution immediately presents itself. We circle, peer, jiggle and poke. Some other screws come out, but his is no help.
More operating. The runners must be unscrewed at the back to let each drawer lift free in front. Six times, we wrench each drawer out, each time praying that the wood will hold and that nothing breaks under stress. Finally, it can be moved. Down the ramp, through the door, up the first flight of stairs to the little landing (pant, wheez, curse...), then onto its side to make it around the corner and up the rest of the stairs on end, one step at a time (pant, pant, pant...). At last, down the hall and through the door it is placed in its spot in the bedroom. One more disappointment- it is too long to fit between the two doors. It will just have to cover some of the frame.
I am tired- exhausted actually. My finger throbs from being smashed by a drawer. My arms feel lifeless and are sure to be sore for days. There is a dull pain growing in my head, my shoulders ache and I feel a little dizzy.
The fondness is gone.
I hate you, dresser.
2 comments:
Well, I think it was worth it. It's a really beautiful dresser - and looks good there! :)
Maybe the dresser needs bigger pants as well!!
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