Tag Archives: anger

Dark Alleys and Lead Pipes

Dark Alleys and Lead Pipes

From now on when I hear the words, “assembly required” I am sticking my thumbs in my ears, squeezing my eyes shut, and singing something at least as annoying as Hit Me Baby One More Time at the top of my sanity loving lungs. Because, honestly, it would be much less painful than trying to assemble furnature.

You know that old attage those who don’t learn from their mistakes blah blah blah I’ve quit listening where’s the nearest place to get a smoothy? Well, I guess I should have paid more attention. I’ve ranted about my ineptitude putting the excersize bike, which still to this day remains used a grand total of twice, together on the “Some Assembly Required” episode of the podcast. Then there is the unforgetable time our marriage almost ended, less than a month after it began, when Treva and I tried to assemble two end tables. (I thought I blogged about it, but as usual my brain thinks I did a task my fingers were to lazy to complete.) Tonight, I once again dove headfirst into the shallow end of the I’m a man I can assemble anything pool.

A month or two ago (fine it was really December. shut up.) we bought a cabinet from Ikea. It was one of those small, 5 drawer bathroom things. Came in a box unassembled and unstained. We had been having horiffic luck that day finding things for our new apartment and I was determined to salvage the trip. I told Treva that I would get the cabinet, stain it, put it together, and life would be all roses and smiles from then on. I don’t know why, but for some reason that woman trusts me. Saint.

Fast forward to March. The cabinet, the stain, and the brushes lie under the bed mocking me. I had been waiting for the “perfect weekend” to begin this project. Treva was going to visit her family and I figured what better time to line the kitchen floor with plastic, open the windows, stain that beast like there’s no tomorrow, and hope I don’t hit my head too hard when I pass out from the fumes.

After getting the advice to use a rag instead of a brush because you can feel the stain from someone smarter than I am, I slap in some season 1 West Wing (nerd) and start staining. I quickly discover a few things.

1. Our kitchen is too small and once I lie these pieces on the floor I will be unable to reach the fridge to obtain more Cherry Coke. Furthermore, later, once the first coat has dried I will have no idea which pieces have had the second coat applied. I of course come to this realization about 90 percent through my first coat.

2. This stuff feels gross.

3. the fumes aren’t nearly bad enough to give me a high or cause unconsciousness, but my hands will smell for the next milleneum or three.

4. I hate staining stuff. Why can’t this involve a chainsaw? I’m good with destruction.

Once the first coat is done I scrub my hands in an attempt to rid them of their newly acquired shade of white, grab my cell and call Treva.

Me: I quit. If I ship this to your Mom will she bust out her incredible Amish woodworking skills and save me from myself? … Stop laughing. I’m sorry. I will never promise I can ever do something like this again. Oh, and our kitchen is too small. I want my mommy.

Treva: You’re a dork. Let me ask.

Me: I will shower you with children if you fix this for me. (hahaha, yeah right. I would never say such a thing. Children scare me pantsless remember?)

Treva: She says yes.

Me: Sweet. I love her. I’m going to play “Miriani now.

Several hours later I toss the dry pieces of particle board in the box, shove it under the bed, and forget about it until the beginning of April. Treva finally smacks me upside the head and reminds me to send the thing to her Mom. I’m pretty sure the woman at UPS was laughing at me when I explained what I was doing. Actually, I know she was.

We got it back tonight and I decided I had had enough of being haunted by this mean little hunk of wood. I was going to put it together. And, while I was at it, entertain the Twitter community with my antics.

21:48: Finally putting the ikea cabinet together. Where did i put the hardware?

When we sent the cabinet I figured I’d hang onto the hardware. I suppose, in retrospect, I should have just had her assemble the thing post staining, but I figured it would be easier to ship back in it’s multiple piece state. I left the bag of hardware tucked in a secret spot behind the leg of the headboard because I didn’t want to lose it and that’s where it was and if I moved it I would never find it again. Stop glaring at me honey, I hardly ever do that.

22:15: Would text instructions be too much to ask? There pictures aren’t doing it.

Now to be fair, I realize that for your average bear a picture is more helpful than text, but not for me. See, it all looks like a bunch of lines and things that might be screws or maybe a smudge, or possibly a doughnut. I want something that says “take the piece of wood with the slot, slide the thin flat board into the groove” you get the idea. Is that impossible?

22:45: I quit! Nothing that says assembly required is ever allowed in this house again.

After Treva and I figured out how to put the thing together I started nailing it in place. Unfortunately every time I got close to getting the nails in all the way the boards would slip and I would have to pull it and start over.

I gave up. I finally had enough and decided the cabinet and I needed to take a break from each other. Once my thumbs have healed, and my anger has subsided we might meet again… in a dark alley while I brandish a lead pipe and pound the bologna out of it. 🙂