One of my oldest friends, meaning I've known her a long time-she's not old, gave us a sofa. There are several pictures on this blog of this sofa. Well, not of the sofa really. It's always background noise.
It's vinyl. It's turquoise. It's awesome.
There was a lot of drama around the giving of this couch, as there is with anything involving this friend. She offered it to me many years ago when she broke up with her fiance. I never had the time or resources (renting a truck required) to get a damn couch-no matter how cool and free it was.
She then revoked the gift by moving into an apartment with the couch. She needed it. I didn't complain. You snooze, you loose.
After she was evicted from that place, she moved all of her things to her father's garage in Connecticut. The gift was offered again. However, I still lacked the time/resources to now go all the way to Connecticut to pick up a 'free' couch. So, there it stayed. For a couple more years.
When my previous boss lady was closing up shop, she needed to rent a truck and bring the contents of the store to...Connecticut! So, I jumped at the chance to get in on that truck.
My friend had since moved to San Francisco so the arrangements to pick up this gift were all done via text message. She told me her father was in Florida but that would not be a problem because the garage opened by a security code.
What she did not tell me was that her father had changed the code. That they were having an argument. That he didn't want anybody in his house. So, there we were just waiting outside a garage in Connecticut with a rental truck hoping for some resolution other than leaving empty handed. Which is almost what happened if Ely James had not gotten involved. He called my friend and pestered her until she thought of a number her father could have changed the code to and viola! We opened the garage doors to see a vinyl turquoise couch. That was soaking wet. Wah wah.
We brought it home anyway. Aired it out. Left the cushions on the fire escape to bake in the sun. Had a home that smelled of dusty mold for a few weeks. Fun times. Worth it. Totally worth it.
The point of this long story is that #2 came along.
We placed her crate next to the couch. There really is not much room up in this studio. One day while I was at work, Ely James did not latch the bottom of the crate before leaving for a rehearsal. #2 tried real hard to escape that crate but could only get a hold of the couch. Damage was done.
Now what? In our hood there is an upholstery place. We thought about finding out how much it would cost to get it repaired. In the end, we decided we didn't really care. No one comes over. There's no room for company! Then I found out that this exists...
I think it exists mainly so people can make weird things like this:
Also works for this:
Good enough for us! Probably before the life of this couch ends, more of it will be covered in duck tape. Just sayin.'
