~160 lb. Dumbbell

6:28 PM - 3/10/06

(If I edit this thing one more time, I'm going to smack myself... but... onward...)

Today, thanks to RavensWings, I went to the WalMart. No, I'm not a big fan of WalMart, but us poor folk have to get our shtuff somewhere.

Today, I purchased a bookshelf. Now, this is no ordinary bookshelf. This is the all-you-could-never-want in a bookshelf, bookshelf ... for the low, low price of $29.88. Some assembly required.

The (not even bothering to fake being friendly) WalMart dude took the box up to the front of the store, while we finished our shopping. (YAY! I BOUGHT SOCKS!)

Aside from the delay at the deodorant aisle, where a family of three was (apparently) having a bonding moment over the Secret, we got finished fairly quickly.

We tried not to discuss the chore ahead.

We had to, somehow, get the beast of a shelf from the WalMart into my apartment.

Getting it to the car was easy. They had a nifty, flat-bed, cart-like thingee that they so generously let us borrow. (What? For $29.88, you want them to actually take it to your vehicle? Are you on crack?)

Between the two of us, we managed. Nessie kept an eye out while I risked maneuvering without her. She did a good job.

So, bookshelf wedged between the seats (did I mention that the box was about 6 feet long and weighed 86 lbs?), we rolled the carts back up to the WalMart, and then headed back here.

So.... there we were, parked outside of the back of the building (which is actually the front of my apartment. Don't ask.), and we had to get this beast of a bookshelf up 2 flights of stairs and into my living room.

I'll make this part of the story short.

We didn't die. The shelf got in. Nessie is still giving me an attitude about the whole experience.

So... right... RavensWings has to go, and I want nothing to do with the task of putting the shelf together. According to the box, you didn't even need any tools, but shoot... I didn't even feel like opening the box.

Attempting to avoid the task, I futzed around in the kitchen, wandered around online, debated beer... but it kept staring at me.

So... I opened the box. It was a long box. ...about 6 feet by one foot, an inch or two thick. I thought it was going to be a nice thin, sturdy bookshelf. oops.

Surprise!!!! One foot is the width of the sides. huh?

ok... I almost panicked.

In the box was this monstrosity that resembled a press-board accordion... and a bag of metal doohickies.

I didn't cry.

I don't even know how to explain this to you.

Three shelf Bs get inserted into one side of monster A. Edge C gets inserted into the bottom of one side of monster A. There is nothing holding edge C or shelves B upright. Apparently they're supposed to just levitate there with their 2 pegs each inserted into one side of monster A.

That didn't happen.

One after the next, the shelf Bs revolted.

Nessie was laughing.

I was not.

Finally, I dragged some stuff over to the monster and propped up the Bs, which were now wet because of my sweating all over them.

eew.

ok... so, the C and Bs are standing at attention, with a lot of help from from 4 boxes, two phone books, and a 20 lb. dumbbell. (No, not me, I weigh in at about 160.)

Then, the real fun began.

What they told you to do was to pick up the other side of monster A, and wrap the whole accordion-like mess around until the other holes on monster A lined up with the other peg thingees on the Bs and C.

Right.

An hour later, drenched in sweat, and ignoring the insane laughter coming from Harold and Nessie, I swore that it sort of looked like a bookshelf. I went to part 3 of the instructions.

I had to put the "tacks" into the back of the shelf and get them to line up with the back edges of the, now hugged by the monster, B shelves.

ok, so there are a few holes. It only took me 20 minutes.

Moving the bookshelf to where I wanted it would've been easy, if it had actually fit there.

I maneuvered it into the bedroom, and found a place where it fit, completely ignoring Bunny who was all but shitting himself laughing at me.

Very funny. We'll see who sleeps in the drool spot tonight.



Hey, at least it's made the fucking USA! Right?

- the bookshelf, not my drool... but then, I suppose my drool is made in the USA too.

USA! USA!

got tissues?