I recently moved my bed around so that it would free up a vent and keep my bedroom a little cooler. The wall I moved the bed to is hardly wide enough for the bed. I had to move my nightstands out to the garage to store.
I was flipping through a catalog one evening and saw these small tables that I thought would fit perfectly in the crowded space and work as a decent nightstand. I ordered two of them and they finally arrived on Friday.
When I popped open the box I discovered that I had to put these together. I don’t remember reading that in the fine print or I never would have bought them. I don’t like to put things together at all. I have even gone so far to pay Wal-mart employees to sneak out to my car and put things together for me before I take them home. I have only had a couple of problems with this…I did get one employee fired. One of the micro-managers spotted James assembling a book shelf for me and came out screaming for some reason. I am sure James really didn’t like working at Wal-mart anyways…I mean who would.
Another time I had Jose put together a desk for me. He got all finished up and looked at me and said, ” Ay lady, deese desk es not gonna feet in chur car.” Well hell. I managed to talk Jose into waiting with my desk in my parking spot while I went to borrow a truck. When I came back Jose was asleep on top of my desk. It is just so hard to find good help these days.
After drinking an entire bottle of vodka, I managed to gather the courage to attempt putting these two tables together. I un-box the first one and get to work. The instructions had a little picture of all the parts with a letter next to them. A-H is what I had to deal with today. I prefer A-C max but the box was open and I needed some tables.
I began putting the pieces together and was just about to get it finished when I realized I had put the legs on upside down. I am not an engineer people! Why do they make these damn things so hard to figure out??? So I had to take it all apart, flip the legs around and start screwing it back together. I got to the very last screw and realized it was just not turning for some reason. I pulled the table to my face and saw the genius that made this thing welded a piece of the medal lopsided. Lovely.
After digging in the garage for half an hour looking for a hammer, I began to beat the hell out of this piece of metal in hopes of bending it just enough to get the screw in. I began sweating like a cat in a Korean restaurant. Where is Jose when you need him???
The top is a piece of fake wood and I get out the screws (also know as F) and look at the diagram. Ok, I need to screw these tiny things into this piece of wood. There are no starter holes. I flipped the fake wood over. No starter holes on that side. The profanities I began to scream even scared me a little. I dug around in the garage for another half hour for a drill.
Top was screwed on and my last step was to screw in these little rubber screws for the bottom of the table. One of them was missing. I tore the box open digging frantically screaming, “Oh no you didn’t!!!!” So now my table rocks. Next thing I know I had picked up the screwdriver and hurled it towards the TV. Yep, it went in. So now I have a TV with a screwdriver hanging out of it.
That was it. I picked up the finished table and the second box full of more torture and disposed of them in my trash bin.
I was just not made to put things together. I now want to hurt people…maybe even cute puppies. There has to be an easier way besides marrying some damn man to do this crap.
Flipping through the phone book I quickly spot “Male Escorts” and dial the number. Hey, they get $200 an hour and have to do whatever I say. What could be better than watching a hottie put together my tables?