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Broke
Wife, Big City
Let's
just table the issue, shall we?
By
Aprill Brandon
For
years, my husband and I have harbored a shameful secret. A secret so
hideous,
so horrifying, so wholly conducive to alliteration, we have hardly
dared to even
whisper it out loud.
And
the worst part is we have carried this secret with us from state to
state,
apartment to apartment, every time we move, from Ohio to Texas to now
Boston.
Each time, with each new set of friends and colleagues, our pain and
embarrassment
only growing as we again try and miserably fail to hide this... this
abomination from their innocent eyes.
This
shame has only increased ever since we got married and became somewhat
upstanding citizens (hunchbacked citizens?). I mean, we pay taxes
(occasionally), for crying out loud! We fully intend to register to
vote
someday probably before we die! Someday we might even be parents once
Child
Protective Services takes us off their Do Not Let These People
Procreate Under
Any Circumstances Ever list!
And
yet, here we are. Two grown adults, living in our very own house that
is
"technically" owned by our landlord, and without a single surface to
eat on or a chair to sit on that is not of the office variety.
Yes,
my friends, my husband and I have never owned a set of table and
chairs. For
the past, oh, eight years or so, ever since we met, we have been
reduced to
eating on the couch like a pair of... of ANIMALS (or frat guys... same
difference).
Now,
you're probably thinking, "How in the world do two grown adults go
without
a table and chairs for eight long years!?!" Of course, for all I know,
you
could be thinking "Cheese may just be the world's most perfect food."
And I'd have to agree with you there. But for the sake of continuity,
let's
assume you're thinking the former.
It's
not like we didn't try. We always meant to get an actual dining room
set. But
other, more pressing financial matters got in the way, such as paying
the vet
approximately three million dollars because our dumb dog tried to chew
his own
tail off and the fact we couldn't live ANOTHER day without owning Rock
Band 2.
Although,
one time we did get as far as purchasing a second-hand table. Which we
had for
years. But since we had no chairs to go with it, it ended up turning
into
"The Giant Shelf of Random Items We Were Too Lazy to Put Away." And
then there was the winter we actually used our patio furniture as our
"official" indoor table and chairs, which ended after the Great
Thanksgiving Collaspe of '09. We also tried to go all bohemian a few
times,
making people sit on pillows on the floor as they ate off the coffee
table, but
that stopped once I hit 30 and the process of getting up off the floor
started
to resemble one of those bugs that gets caught on its back and can't
right
itself.
And
then...then a miracle happened. Like a deus ex machina plot twist
(yeah, who
didn't pay attention in English class now, Professor Greenberg?), the
hand of
God himself came down from the heavens and plopped a a beautiful, dark
wood
six-seater with red velvet chairs right in our dining room.
Or,
to
be more specific, our friend was moving to Chicago and said "Hey, you
want
this guy?"
And
we
did want that guy. Oh, how we wanted that guy. Finally! A place to have
a nice,
intimate dinner! A place for guests to actually sit and eat without our
aforementioned dumb dog breathing right in their face! A place to
whatever else
since I need a third example thanks to that annoying "Rule of Three"
writing principle!
I
have
to tell you, it has completely changed our lives. All two times we have
used it
in the past three months.
We
are
now officially civilized.
Can’t
get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check
out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
THE.
SAME.
SPOT.
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