Now, I am not going to cast aspersions at my fellow Monster of the Midsection by saying he needs to lose some weight (or did I just do that?) but my couch now sits alone on the curb waiting for the garbage men.
It served me well for many years, it held the asses of friend and foe alike, it never complained as the surface area covered by said asses continued to expand. That came to a metal-twisting end yesterday as several springs just could no longer bear the load.
It is just another sad end in a long line of couch deaths. Okay, the line isn’t that long, but the deaths are sure memorable. My last sofa died a fiery death and it was on that fateful night that I learned a valuable lesson about falling asleep with candles burning.
You see, I woke to the most horrendous smell and a strange glow in the room. With my feet tucked up in a fetal position, I had been sleeping on the opposite end of a couch that now featured jets of flame roughly four feet high. (Thank goodness for long couches)
I lept from the non-burning end, ran to the sink, tore off my shirt, doused it in water, and proceeded to fight the flames. It took awhile but I finally won the battle.
That was the first time I made that lonely couch-drag to the side of the road. This one wasn’t nearly as traumatic, but it certainly brought back a lot of memories.