Saturday, March 08, 2008


Ever heard this one? It’s a cousin of Do It Yourself, except the last D stands for...


I bought a desk the other day. Nice enough, that desk. Steel tubes for legs, a nice and smooth slab of synthetic wood in a pale, glossy finish. It’s a cute desk, bought at Ikea, and that came in a flat box. Um, I thought, surprising given that the desk I’d seen on the display looked big enough to have nautical charts laid on top. That box, it couldn’t have been wider than 3 feet.

Oh well.

I wrestle it off the cart and into the car, out of the car and into the house, up the second floor, down the hall, in the office. By that time, that “little” box felts like a block from the damn pyramid. I’m sweaty, hungry, getting a tiny bit frustrated. Because I’m probably more man than I’m woman, I don’t read the instructions. No ma’am, no sir. I get a box cutter, open the box nice and neat. Inside are planks. Only planks. I search for tubular metal legs. No metal. Only planks. And a tiny Allen key.
Suspecting that I messed up, I get a tea and butter cookies, study the situation, come to the conclusion that I forgot to buy the legs, which must have come separately.

I’m already regretting giving my desk to my friend, but I can’t very well break into her house, steal it back. She’d recognize it right away when she comes over. Unless I paint it... Nah, that wouldn’t be nice, would it? I mean, we’re friends, right. Right?

So out I go again, same circus, come back to the house with tubular legs that weigh a ton. Now my office is starting to look more like a bad reno job from hell more than anything else. I set to work. Half an hour later, I got sore fingers, no more cookies in the box and a mutant between a lawn chair and a book shelve. Nothing remotely looking like a desk.

My heart rate, it starts to climb. Where are my nunchaku when I need them?

I spend the afternoon trying to build that sucker. It thwarts my every attempt. It laughs at me, taunts me with its mismatched planks and its little fucking Allen key. Who came up with that hateful thing? The devil, that’s who. And the devil, he wears yellow and blue and works at Ikea.

Now you know what I’m going out for? Paint and a crowbar. I’m getting my old desk back, dammit.

Nat, the assembly-challenged Hussy.


Ciana Stone said...

LMAO - sorry to laugh, Nat, but speaking as someone who's been there, I know the frustration. It's kind of odd. There was a day when you went into a furniture store, saw something you wanted and said "deliver that please" and it was delivered by stout men - already assembled. Now two anemic lads show up with boxes that have the words "assembly required" stamped in red on them. Go figure!

NathalieGray said...

Anemic lads?! That's so funny!!!!!

I miss the moving guys of old. *sigh*

Deb said...

Nat, I feel for you. I always hesitate when I read "assembly required" That means you end up working, cussing, cussing after 2 hours you look at the parts and say," Oh I have left over parts, I hope I don't need them.." LOL