I mentioned last week that I was on the hunt for a TV Stand, and because I’m a young, wild, and crazy twenty-something gal, I had an entire Saturday to devote to shopping. I wanted to avoid any sort of assembly outside of “screw on all drawer handles,” so I first ventured to a furniture store to check out my options.
As it turns out, my only option would be debt if I decided to go that route. I wandered through a furniture store with two stories and drooled over $2,000 dressers that I would never be able to own
until this blog really takes off. I got excited when I came across a group of TV Stands with a red “CLEARANCE” sign hanging above them. They were beautiful. I could handle some chipped wood for a low price. Turns out the least expensive stand (that my TV would not have even fit on) was about $700. Since I was hoping to spend about $699 less than that, I left the store empty-handed.
Being the only one in the store, the owner followed me out asking “see anything you like?” I responded honestly “absolutely,” and added a lie, “I’ll definitely be back” and ran out of the store.
So, “Assembly Required” was required in my case. I went to a few other discount places before I threw in the towel and decided to go to Target. When I pulled in the parking lot, I noticed a Big Lots! and the giant exclamation point just called to me since I love being loud and obnoxious. I walked in a realized that I’ve being doing my entire life wrong by never visiting this place. It’s like a dollar store on steroids.
After a LOT of contemplation, I found a beautiful TV Stand for under $250 which is way less than I expected to pay so I called over the nice teenager with a septum piercing* to help me out.
I paid and he told me to bring my car up to the curb and he’d bring the box out. It was around this time when I realized that the box might not fit into the trunk of my baby car.
I ran outside to throw everything from my trunk into the front seat and pulled down the back seats before I pulled up to the curb where septum piercing was waiting for me. He lifted the box in and it kept sliding on it with ease. Until it didn’t anymore.
Nosey looked at me and said “It’s in there. It’s not moving if you want to drive like this. Otherwise, we’ll hold it and you can come back.”
“You think it’s okay?” I asked, thinking he had some sort of knowledge that I didn’t.
“Yea, definitely,” he said, probably wondering when he could get lunch.
“Alright, I’ll just take it then,” because he was an 18-year old with a nose ring so he’s been through stuff. I trust that, apparently.
I finally made it home and realized what a horrifying mistake I had made. Home girl couldn’t move this on her own. It was not only the weight that my rubber arms couldn’t handle, but the sheer size of the box. There was no way I’d be able to get this into my apartment. I pretended to struggle while some guy walked by.
He didn’t offer to help so I’ll be egging his car in a few days once the dust settles. I had no other choice but to rip open the box right there in my trunk and take out the wood piece by piece. I still have pieces of cardboard and bubble wrap in my car, and I’ve far exceeded my quota for the amount of Styrofoam one is allowed to throw right into the air to help destroy our planet. (Side note: This was not by choice, but tiny pieces kept flying that I couldn’t catch). About 30 minutes later, all of the pieces were safely inside my apartment. I was sweating and congratulated myself for working so hard to get this inside before I realized that I had a horrifying evening ahead of me.
Tim told me I could wait for him to put it together but FEMINISM. I don’t need no man. Two hours later we were face-timing and I looked like I had really been through the ringer.
All in all (“in all” requires a few breaks for chips and salsa, wiping off my sweat, etc.) it took me a total of 3 hours. I am so damn proud of this thing. I’m not entirely sure that it won’t collapse at any moment, but it’s been 5 days now and it’s still standing, so I think I’m in the clear.
I think it’s beautiful and it was so inexpensive that it all seems worth it (now), but I still have faith that there’s a special place in Hell for whoever invented “Assembly Required” Furniture. I will greet him there with guns a blazing.