The Couch

OK, here's a little back story for you. When I first moved out of my mother's place the first purchase I made was an Ikea sofa. I figured it was cheap, functional, and not completely hideously ugly. So $1,000 later I had a couch that got me through for about a year and a half. Last month the unthinkable happened.

While it looks only like the leg was wonky, in fact the entire side wall of the couch had collapsed. So after a few weeks of propping the fucker up with the yellow pages, a French-English dictionary, and 5 coasters, I decided to get a new one. Not wanting to deal with Ikea again, I went to EQ3 and picked up this beauty.

So with the broken couch issue resolved a new dilemma presented itself. What the hell do I do with the busted couch? I would feel weird tossing it out (as it cost a mint just 18 months ago), and I couldn't sell (as no one would be dumb enough to buy it). So I talked to a friend who would take it off my hands and in return I would get a cased of beer. Fair deal.

So Friday I drove down to Parkdale to drop this thing off at his place. The day before I had told him I'd be there between 2:00pm and 2:30 pm. Now here's the thing about Toronto mid day traffic; driving from Uptown to Parkdale is, for all intents and purposes, like driving to the moon. After about 90 minutes on the road I arrived and lo and behold, the dude isn't there. I call his phone. No answer. I bang on his door. No answer. I text him. No answer. Now, I didn't drive half way across the known universe to still be stuck with this goddamn thing in my car. So I did the only reasonable thing. I left it in his yard. Sure hope he found it before the rain started.