Thursday, November 29, 2012

All Must Go: Chapter 1

Like R. Kelly, I'm going to break down the big story of selling our furniture into smaller stories because each one is unique and, as expected, very New York. When I say "very New York" that sometimes means "not easy and probably stressful." You'll get the gist soon enough and, if not, then refer to past stories.

Ben and I decided to sell all of our furniture on Craigslist. We did not have nice or expensive furniture. Rather, we collected our furniture like many New Yorkers - Craigslist, neighbors moving, and sidewalks (before the bed bug scare of 2010). It was time to return our things to Craigslist and complete our furniture's cycle of life.

We took pictures of everything and uploaded them to Craigslist. Ben immediately got tons of emails. Some emailers seemed legit, so he responded. Some emailers seemed sketchy and possibly murderous, so he trashed those. I really appreciated that since I, alone, would be passing on our furniture.

The first piece of furniture to go was our pressed wood nightstand. It went to a young guy attending Columbia University, who recently moved from California. I called him to sort through the details because, let's face it, West Coast people are very laid back and have no idea of how the East Coast operates.

The guy said he planned to carry the nightstand 10 blocks and one avenue to his apartment, almost one mile.

I rolled my eyes and nodded. He confirmed my previously held notion about West Coasters.

I said, "You will need something to transport the nightstand because it's an awkward size and it will get too heavy."

I actually worried that he would only make it halfway down the block before giving up and bringing it back for a full refund.

The line went silent for a few seconds and then he replied, "I've got a skateboard."

I said, "Perfect. See you in 20."

I got off the phone and dusted the nightstand. I patted the top and gave it a pep talk. I prepared it for its new home and the destruction it would probably face in an apartment full of college boys.

The guy arrived in 40 minutes (West Coasters) and we loaded it onto his skateboard. He wheeled it down the hallway and into our elevator. I closed the door and then ran to the living room window to watch him wheel it down the street until out of view.

That is how you do it in New York.

* I really do love West Coasters.

The nightstand.

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