Why do they let us out of the house??

A blog post by KSpot

TGFY got a new couch last night. Normal people go to the furniture store, pick out a couch and schedule delivery. Luckily for you, loyal readers, nothing TGFY and her friends do is normal. Here's what went down. (Note: this is not a dating story unless you count the sweet, sweet love we are going to all make to this beautiful new couch).

The night starts off to be promising when TGFY shows up at my house in bright red patent leather heels. (Apparently we are going to seduce the couch into her SUV). We are "fairly" sure the couch "may" fit in the trunk but will "hang out the back" a lot. So my roommate has a great time watching us measure the trunk, call the owner 5 times to verify, struggle with the ropes we'll use to tie down the couch to something (haven't figured out what) and laughs about whether the couch will even fit. He goes inside without ever even mentioning letting us borrow his HUGE flat-bed pick up truck that was parked directly behind us this whole time. Stand-up guy.

So we get on the road. Having only lived here for 6 and 2 years, respectively, TGFY and I naturally have no idea where Herndon is. We take every wrong turn possible and are on the phone with the owner another 5 times. Somewhere between getting absurdly lost, throwing a random handful of change into the toll booth collector, (which, BTW, ever wonder where they pee?? Right there in the booth. It doubles as a porta-potty, which means you better make friends with the person on the shift before you or else they'll poop in your office) and my explanation to TGFY about my fool-proof theory that there is really only one guy, ever, that you never break up with, and even then, one of you dies in the end. So we are both laughing and nearly crying over how retarded we are. We agree that this is like the night of the pink sticky bat… without the alcohol… and the bat… but with a little sticky.

We finally spot our landmark (a giant, 4-story balloon snowman…which yes, we did actually almost miss) and realize we're in the middle of no where. Half the building are shells of construction sites, and the other half are so new that Mapquest doesnt even recognize them. But there is a couch to be bought, so on we go.

Following the stranger-whom-we-met-online's instructions, we call him and he drives down to the entrance of his parking structure, which is completely fenced in. We pass like, 5 idling cars with their low beams on and I start scouting out emergency exit routes. TGFY instructs me to zip her couch-cash into my pocket for the quick get-away. (After all, it will probably cost about $350 to take a cab back to civilization. We are as prepared as girl scouts). We follow him up to the top deck and make our last confessions to each other before we die. I apologize for saying that we will likely be tortured first, a thought that had not occurred to TGFY until I pointed it out. So now we have that to worry about, on top of fitting the couch into the car.

It turns out that the couch is just beautiful, the owners were awesome and I wanted to stay and hang out, the couch fit just fine, and we made it back safe and sound. It worked out just perfectly and it was a hilarious little journey out west.