terrshee's Diaryland Diary

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The Adventure of the Lamps

Last weekend I went to one of the local lighting meccas and ordered a couple of expensive designer lamps. One had to be transfered to the store from another location, the other was a custom job that I was told would require 8 weeks. No big deal. I wanted something unique, i.e. that wouldn't look like all the other lamps I had bought at Target or Linens n' Things, or for that matter that anyone else I know had bought.

Last night I went up to Columbia to pick up the first part of the order. I gave the nice salesman the receipt, and eventually he returned with two packaged lamps. As it happened, the place from which they had to make the special order had one in stock and FedExed it to the store.

Now, I'm used to buying the kind of lamp that comes in sections and has to be assembled, and that sort of box is fairly easy to carry.

These two boxes were each taller than I (not tough, but still), and big enough around that I couldn't get a good grip.

The nice young stock clerk trollied them out to my car, a small wagon. He could make one of them fit without hanging out the back, but not both. But they are heavy enough I figured they are not going anywhere and that the rear gate will help hold them in place.

I had not yet left the parking lot when the gate popped open. This is not a good sign for the trip home. However, there is a Wal-Mart there, so I dashed in to buy a couple of bungee cords, all the while praying no one steals my lamps from the obviously vulnerable car.

The boxes now more or less safely strapped in, I faced the trip home on the highway with a wide open rear gate in 25 degree weather. The heater went on full blast, and I managed to get home without freezing to death. The limited visibility from obscured windows didn't make the trip less tense, either.

Now the next challenge confronted me. I had to get these two boxes over about 40 feet of walkway into the building and then up two flights of steps and this without help. I sincerely hope no one was watching. In an excess of pure bloodimindedness, I carried, dragged, pushed and rolled each one from the car over the payment, up the stairs and into the condo. I thought, I prayed, I did the Moktar Strength Chant, and without serious injury to myself (actually, the jury is still out on that after my fall with the ladder, but thank the gods for motrin), managed to get each of those prizes into the cave. My mammoth hunting ancestors could not have been prouder; see the small primitive overcome obstacles using brain over limited brawn.

And there the boxes sit, waiting for me to get home today and open them. I tremble in terror lest one of them contains the wrong item or I broke anything in transit.

The lesson is -- and I should know this by now -- that buying grownup furniture means asking if the store delivers, and that one of these days I really gonna hurt myself unless I wise up and get a guy around the house.

7:21 a.m. - 2005-03-10
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past tense - always tense - future tense