The Couch, A Dollar, and CHKD

We’ve been in the Quad dome now going on five years. And we still don’t have any damn furniture in the “living room.” Ever since we moved here, MQ has slowly decorated that room to resemble a living room from a beach house. Considering she used to live at the beach and we spend probably a month or more total per year at nags head, hatteras, or myrtle beach, I had no problem with it. After “beach” pictures, pelicans, and the like, I’ve been lobbying hard now for a month or so for furniture.

MQ had decided long ago that she wanted the furniture to be Rattan. No problem. I’ve always liked that type of furniture. So I was happy as a drunk with a keg when MQ found a Rattan sofa that her best friend was going to give us. Her friend bought some new furniture and wanted to give us her Rattan couch. Needless to say, after the fellas and I played golf a couple of weeks ago, I went to the friend’s house to get the couch.

Now, a couch is heavy enough. Add a hide a bed, plus being made out Rattan, and you’ve got a couch that is heavy as hell, but he ain’t my brother, if you know what I mean. So imagine my, ummm, state of mind after I loaded that heavy bastard into the truck, unloaded it into the garage, only to have MQ tell me that she didn’t like it because 1) she thought the cushions were more colorful (they are an off white) and 2) the Rattan was too light and didn’t match out current wood work.

Quad: we can stain it to match.
MQ: no. too much trouble.
Quad: maybe we can pay someone to do it. They can also upholster the fabric to a pattern you like.
MQ: nahh. That’s too expensive.
Quad: it can’t be as much as a new one, can it.
MQ: well, it’s not what I wanted.
Quad: then why the hell did you have me go get it?
MQ: I didn’t know I wasn’t going to like it.
Quad: why didn’t you go see it, or ask your friend about it?

I guess that made too much damn sense because she closed the door without answering.

Fast forward to yesterday, Saturday. I had decided that I was going to take the sofa down to the thrift store and donate it.

MQ: which one are you going tot take it to?
Quad: the DAV down on Mercury.
MQ: why the DAV?
Quad: well, my dad is a disabled vet. Your dad is a disabled vet. I just thought I would take it there in hopes it will help future vets.
MQ: why not the Children’s Hospital of the Kings Daughters thrift store?
Quad: I hadn’t thought of that. Why?
MQ: well, I was talking to this lady while I was getting my hair done, and she was telling me how her and her husband had had a boy, but it died at two weeks old because of some heart condition. Now, she’s pregnant again and they just found out that that baby, too, has a heart condition. I just thought it would be nice if you took it down there.
Quad: you know what? I just read last week about the two year old grandson of Joe Gibbs being diagnosed with leukemia. I’ll take it down there. Good idea.

So I load it into the truck, and me and The Future take it down to the CHKD thrift store. I park in front and go in.

Quad: I have a couch I want to donate. Where should I put it? (NOTE: I have my own U-haul grade hand truck with a strap.)
Counter Girl: just leave it on the sidewalk with everything else.
Quad: do I get a receipt?
CG: he yah go. (she hands me a blank receipt for ME to fill out).

So while I am unloading the couch, The Future is “helping” this guy back his truck up to his trailer. The man subsequently hands The Future a dollar. Cool.

About this time, this woman appears.
Quad: where would you like for me to put this?
Woman: just take it in the stoe.
Quad: where should I put it once I am in there?
Woman: on the floe.
Quad: no shit? I know that. But where? This thing is heavy and I don’t want to be moving it all over the store.
Woman: just leave it here on the sidewalk.

So I unload it, move it to the sidewalk, and unload the cushions. The women spray it with sanitizer. I put The Future in the truck and buckled him in.

Quad: where to, pook.
Future: 7-11!
Quad: why 7-11?
Future: cause I got a dollar!

That’s right, son. And we just helped a lot of children. What a way to spend a Saturday morning.