So, I might have mentioned how Shlomo and I were slightly out of control with our shopping when we were in New York a couple of weeks ago. Yeah, for some reason when we were there, we decided to redecorate a room that was really not in tremendous need of redecoration.
But let me give you a little backstory/justification. When Shlomo moved into our house, he literally had no furniture (not counting mattresses). Literally none. Over the course of that summer, he bought a sofa, some TVs, and a table with bar stools rather than chairs for the breakfast nook. One friend found a great buffet that fit perfectly in the niche in the dining room. Another helped him have a dining room table made from an old ranch door. There were no chairs.
He lived like that until Labor Day weekend. There was a furniture sale at a local furniture store. He filled the house (including a decent table for the breakfast nook and chairs for the dining room table). It’s not that the stuff was terrible, but even he claims not to have really picked it all out. He attributes most of it to the guy who worked in the furniture store…let’s just say it rhymes with Lassett.
So a year later, he met me. A year after that, we combined households. I was never in love with most of the stuff from Lassett. It’s fine. It’s run of the mill. Everyone can go buy exactly the same stuff. I am more like Phoebe in her pre-Pottery Barn phase (if you don’t watch Friends, you will not understand that reference). I like for my things to be a little more unique.
Shlomo agreed. He always said that he just wanted furniture when he bought it. Over time, we could replace it. It’s amazing how fast “over time” can actually be.
So, in New York, we fell in love with this table (minus the mushrooms—our fine friends at Bergdorff Goodman got to keep those). It was more than we wanted to spend, but desire outweighed practicality. It often does with us.
But let me give you a little backstory/justification. When Shlomo moved into our house, he literally had no furniture (not counting mattresses). Literally none. Over the course of that summer, he bought a sofa, some TVs, and a table with bar stools rather than chairs for the breakfast nook. One friend found a great buffet that fit perfectly in the niche in the dining room. Another helped him have a dining room table made from an old ranch door. There were no chairs.
He lived like that until Labor Day weekend. There was a furniture sale at a local furniture store. He filled the house (including a decent table for the breakfast nook and chairs for the dining room table). It’s not that the stuff was terrible, but even he claims not to have really picked it all out. He attributes most of it to the guy who worked in the furniture store…let’s just say it rhymes with Lassett.
So a year later, he met me. A year after that, we combined households. I was never in love with most of the stuff from Lassett. It’s fine. It’s run of the mill. Everyone can go buy exactly the same stuff. I am more like Phoebe in her pre-Pottery Barn phase (if you don’t watch Friends, you will not understand that reference). I like for my things to be a little more unique.
Shlomo agreed. He always said that he just wanted furniture when he bought it. Over time, we could replace it. It’s amazing how fast “over time” can actually be.
So, in New York, we fell in love with this table (minus the mushrooms—our fine friends at Bergdorff Goodman got to keep those). It was more than we wanted to spend, but desire outweighed practicality. It often does with us.
We weren’t completely out of control. They agreed to hold it until we could get home and confirm that it actually fit in our living room. It would. We struck a deal. They agreed to ship it out. It just needed to arrive.
Last Friday, it did. FedEx delivered it at 10:45 (just minutes after their promised time—I won’t complain about that). The driver put the crate which was the size of a small car in our driveway and was heading out. Shlomo requested that he use his forklift-type apparatus to move it to our garage (on my side of course—thanks, Shlomo!). The driver did that.
I got home at lunch and we began what we knew would be a daunting task…uncrating it. Yeah, we don’t have the best mechanical prowess. It was not going well. We stripped two screwdrivers…and still the crate was not open.
Shlomo phoned the store. Our salesgirl had the day off. Her manager was a bit snippy and finally said that she would see what she could do. She did point out that no other customers seem to have this problem. I decided that could only be for one of two reasons…either she was lying or anyone who would buy such a ridiculous item would have servants to uncrate it for them. Surely, we weren’t the only customers to ever stretch to buy a table there. I know Oprah lists the store as her favorite place, but it’s not that ridiculous.
A couple of hours later, another woman from Bergdorff’s called back. She had arranged for someone from Neiman Marcus (somehow they fall under the same corporate entity…I am not really sure who owns whom) come and uncrate it for us. Shlomo met them there. It took them five minutes to undo the crate. We had worked for almost an hour. Slight problem, however: they could not lift the table.
They left and went to get a dolly. I got home from work. It took all four of us and a dolly to get this thing in the house. It’s not moving. It’s there forever. Our taste can never change. A hurricane can come through. Our house can collapse. It will still be there.
After the struggle and pain of getting it in place, somehow, I felt better. And, it wasn’t just because the table was there. Yes, Shlomo and I are wimps. But, these guys get paid to do this sort of thing and they struggled with it. Hats off to those fine folks at Bergdorff Goodman for their crating ability. I have never seen anything so well packed. However, this is my advice to them: if you are shipping a crate that literally weighs 616 pounds, chances are, the person receiving that crate is not going to be able to “just handle it.” But, all is well that ends well.
No comments:
Post a Comment