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The Great Couch Debacle

LIFE, NEW YORK CITYEmily Spada2 Comments
couchDebacle
couchDebacle

On the morning of December 16th, my couch was finally delivered. But boy, was it a hellish experience.

In the weeks leading up to the delivery, I had this sinking feeling in my gut that something would go wrong when the delivery guys finally showed up with my new pull-out sleeper couch. They managed to get it out of the truck, through my building's front door, into the elevator, up to the third floor, and outside my apartment door.

And that's where the trouble began. They couldn't fit the couch through my apartment door. They pushed, pulled, wedged. Nothing. Delivery Guy 1 asked me if there was someone who could come take my door off. I called my super twice and was brought to voicemail both times. "What are my options?" I asked him. I was panicking. I knew this would happen. I just knew.

"I could leave it here and wait for someone to take the door off or I could take it back on the truck. You won't get it until after the holidays." I knew that leaving a massive couch sitting in the hallway wasn't an option, so I told him to bring it back onto the truck. They decided they'd give it one more try, and proceeded to rock the couch back and forth through my front door. All the while I was damn near pulling my hair out from the anxiety. Thank goodness I had my boyfriend there to bring me back down to earth.

THEN. By the grace of God and all that is holy, they got the couch through my door, down the short hallway, and into my apartment. I tipped them handsomely, gave them some water, and they were on their way. My bathroom doorknob is busted, but that's a small price to pay. I've been sitting the hell out of that couch ever since.

So what's the lesson here? Before you buy furniture, measure your door.