It's All About the Fit

This past weekend, we had some friends visit from Texas.  As we showed them out "new" house, they admired a pair of loveseats on the third floor.  I explained that they were our former living room couches, just recovered.  And what a nightmare that was.

When we moved in, I had the movers put them up in the guest room at the top of the house.  Lickety-split, up they went.  No problem.

About a year or so later, I had the reupholster guys come to take them out.  No lickety.  No split.  Many problems.

Wham!  They smashed the first one of the couches into the door frame as they attempted to get it through the door.

Um.  I'd actually like it back in one piece, if it wouldn't be too much trouble.

Bam!  They smashed it a second time as they backed up and tried again.

Hey, Braveheart.  That's a couch, not a battering ram.

Slam!  Okay.  Three times is obviously not the charm.  Let's review some basic physics here...two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time.  C'mon, say it with me.

"This couch won't fit through here," lead guy one complained.  "What'd ya do, put these couches up here, then finish building?"

Why, yes.  How clever of you to have figured it out.  I actually designed the entire house around these fifteen year old, worn and stained couches.  It's the newest craze.  I hear Brad and Angelina have done it in at least three of their homes.

"Well, the legs must come off then," he grumbled.

"I don't think so...but how about tipping it the other way?" I offered.

"I've been doing this a long time, and the legs always come off," he informed me loftily.

Okaaayyy...

Fifteen minutes later, he was back to trying to cram the couch through the door...with the legs still on.  He had, however, removed the door from its hinges.

"How about tipping it the other way?" I suggested again.

"There is no way you got these couches through this door," he huffed after about fifty-six more failed attempts to jam it through, all the while ignoring my suggestion.

And yet, there they are, in the room.  Ooh.  It must have been magic.  Maybe the movers were just better at spells and potions than you.  Perhaps your wand needs the new 10.5 upgrade.  Oh, and incidentally, I believe there is a tiny speck of paint that you missed when removing it all from the door frame, but don't worry, I'm sure you'll get it on your next attempt to force the couch through.

"How about tipping it the other way," guy two suggested at this point, correctly interpreting my narrowed eyes, crossed arms and tapping foot as danger sings.

"That won't help," guy one groused, oblivious to the act that he was wasting the last minutes of his life complaining.  "These couches just won't fit."

"Then maybe I should call someone else," I cut off his grumbling.

Suddenly, divine inspiration hit.

"Hey.  I know.  Let's tip the couch this way," guy one suggested.

Guy two shot guy one a look that was only slightly less malevolent than the one I was aiming at him.

One hour, four gallons of sweat, 372 curses and various scratches, dents and bruises later, the couches were loaded into the truck.

About two weeks later, a different crew brought my now, oh so pretty couches back.

Wham!  Uh oh.  They had sent  Laurel and Hardy clones...again.

"These couches aren't going to fit through this door," new guy one determined.

"They fit through before, you just need to tip them the other way,"  I told him, glad the couches were at least protected by plastic.

"Are you sure they went here?"  he questioned.

Hmm.  Let's see.  Maybe I'm mistaken as to which room I put them in.  Let me think.  By golly, you're right.  I actually had them in the kitchen for the last year.  Oh, no, wait a minute.  They were in the bathroom.  That's right.  One was in the tub and the other one was in front of the sink.  Whew.  Glad you said something.  Just think how odd they would look in a sitting area.

Heaving a pained sigh, new guy one and new guy two hefted the couch and tried again.  And again.  And again, still ignoring my advice on tipping the couch.

"Maybe try turning it the other way," I tried one last time when my door frame began to resemble Swiss cheese.  I began wishing the doorway was hooked up to a buzzer like in the game Operation except instead of just getting buzzed, maybe a nice little electric shock.  Say something around fifty or sixty thousand volts.

"The plastic is making it too thick," new guy one decided ripping it off.  "That's the problem."

Yeah, I can understand how that extra tenth of a millimeter makes all the difference.  Not.  Turn. It. The. Other. Way.

Wham! Bam! Slam!

"When they reupholstered, they must have added more stuffing," he was clutching at invisible straws now...and his chest, his side and one knee.

"So, does this mean you can't get it through?"  I asked, silently daring him to tell me it was impossible.

"There's no way they are going to fit," he prepared to head back down the stairs, foolish, foolish man that he was.

"So what do you suggest I do with the couches?'  Because I'm getting some really good ideas on where you can place them.

"How about another room?"

"How about you take them back, restore them to their former state and give me my money back?" 

Once again, divine inspiration.

"Let's tip it this way," new guy one finally saw the light and tipped the couches.

And so, the couches are happily resting on the third floor.  But I've decided that when we eventually move, they are going to convey.