10 december 2020
All original writing
2014, 2015, 2016,
2017, 2018, 2019,
2020, 2021, 2022,
2023, 2024
Dr Ian McLauchlin
SOFA, SO GOOD
Had this sofa for many years. We were like old friends. Friends, that is, until it took a dislike to me. “In what way?” I hear you ask, never having met such a sofa before.
In this way. On several occasions more recently, it hit back. Sorry, it hit my back. Couldn’t get comfortable no matter how I tried. Could be me slouching of course. That does happen now and then. Well quite a lot actually. Tried changing cushions around. That didn’t work. Tried putting a supporting board underneath the cushions. That didn’t work and delayed the inevitable.
Time to admit that that sofa wasn’t particularly good for me any more. It had served
me well but there comes a time etc. So off to a chair shop to see if any chair or sofa suited me better.
“What about this one, Sir?” They call you Sir when they want your money. “Or this one?” “This one’s very popular, Sir” Good for it. Sat in quite a few. Then, just as I was giving up hope, here was a comfortable yet firm, supportive yet comfortable armchair. Before I had chance to change my mind I decided to buy it. Tell you what, I’ll buy two. Chose a lovely darkish red cover, paid the money and that was it. Except it wasn’t. There was a 6 week waiting list. Ah well, that gives me time to get rid of the old sofa.
It was a large L-
Nah, we don’t do sofas any more. Try these people who don’t do sofas any more. Sure enough, they didn’t. I know, I’ll try Exmouth Friends in Need. Surely somebody would welcome a free sofa. A large one. With only the teeniest weeniest transportation problem?
Nobody did. At first. I tried again and there was a bit of interest. Well two people actually. The first couldn’t do anything till the weekend but they were first so got first refusal as they say. I wonder who first said that? Clearly a pessimist. A man after my own heart. No that’s a transplant surgeon.
So the interested lady arranged to come and have a look. She seemed to be still interested. I explained how it came apart and that it was a home with no pets or smoking. Lots of sleeping but that didn’t seem to put her off. Seemed satisfied. She thought she could arrange a couple of guys with a lorry to collect it. So, the deal was done.
Right said Fred, remove all the cushions, all 11 of ‘em from the frame below . . . . take off the cover, wasn’t there another? We were getting nowhere and so . . I . . had a cup o’ tea.
Came the day and she turned up in her car and the two others turned up in their open flatbed lorry. Good job it wasn’t raining. First, the cushions went in her car and filled it up. Took about 6 trips. Then the two cheery chappies, middle aged chappies at that, appeared up the stairs, laughing and joking and not very bright. Looked at the sofa items and, instead of thinking about it like I would, they just grabbed a big section and moved it awkwardly towards the stairs. Scratched their heads.
Nope. We need to turn it round so the arm goes there, or there. Somewhere else anyway. They got it on end and shuffled it down a step or two, one above and the other below. The stairs above limited their headroom. They tried to take it down further, mainly by bashing the top against the stairs above. I’d been watching this from a distance, sitting in a chair. I’d decided it was best to leave them to it. But in the end I couldn’t help myself. I went to the stairs and pointed out the bleedin’ obvious. “If you move the bottom forward an inch it’ll go down to the next step and you’ll have the headroom you need.” Doh.
That took them totally by surprise. They weren’t the brightest but like all such people, didn’t know they weren’t. But they were good at taking paint off the stair rails. On their way further down they came across an electrical plug socket slightly in the way. Without a by your leave, or any thought of any kind, they just unplugged the plug. It was keeping my old granny’s life support system working. No it wasn’t but it could have been for all they knew. That never occurred to them.
Finally, they got that section out and onto the back of the lorry. Next, the next section. They tried and they tried, while laughing, struggling, joking but not thinking. I was reminded of Laurel and Hardy moving a piano. But Laurel and Hardy had more idea than they had.
“Did it come in this way?” they asked eventually. Yes. But there’s another possibility, I volunteered. Out of the patio doors and through the courtyard. Oh no, what have I said?
They put the sofa down, wiped their foreheads and came to look at the courtyard. “We could bring the lorry round there couldn’t we.” Quick as a flash, no limpet, as John Cleese would say, they left and drove their lorry round to the car park. Then they came in for another go. By this time I’d given up and glued myself to the chair.
Without asking, they moved half a dozen plant pots and opened the gate. Then they lifted the next large sofa section through the double doors, while fighting one of the doors which kept swinging in the way. I eventually closed it for them but they couldn’t see that that was what was needed. Even more not very bright. They lifted the sofa onto the railings and then turned it to go down the steps, under the arch while kicking the pots, spilling some soil and banging the arch with the sofa. Finally they got it across the walkway onto their lorry.
By this time a small crowd had gathered. All of them were thinking about Laurel and Hardy moving a sofa. They cheered as the last item was thrown onto the lorry. Laurel and Hardy drove off. Not a word of thanks, appreciation, or apology. Did they know where they were driving to? Probably not.
The lady whose sofa it now was looked sheepish. She knew what I was thinking and she was probably thinking it too. But they were cheap weren’t they. You get the Laurel and Hardy you pay for, don’t you. And she knew she wouldn’t see me again. I saved her embarrassment and said nothing.
I’d love to have witnessed the performance at the other end. Or perhaps not. I’d done enough inner sniggering and holding hand to fevered brow for one day and I now had all that paint to repair and all that space to enjoy before the new chairs arrived, in 6 weeks (no 9 weeks, you didn’t hear the phone did you and missed the delivery slot) time.
20 february 2023