Framing a Bargain

In case you didn’t know yet, I’m a bargain hunter.  Sometimes, my quest for a deal far outweighs my common sense. Take my latest deal: a bed frame bought online, delivered to my door, and ready for me to put together.  I saved $187 on this puppy, the average time for someone to put it together is two hours, I have a screw driver, and hell, I’m ready!  Bring it on!.

My daughter bet me $15 I couldn’t put this bed together in two hours.  Like I said, I love a bargain and knew this was easy money, so I took her up on that bet.  For your enjoyment the following is my adventure, starting bright and early in the morning.

8:00am: First cup of coffee, pulling hair into cutesy pony tail.  I’m stoked; let’s video this for YouTube.

8:10: Opening box with a kitchen knife since I don’t know where my scissors are.

8:15: What the hell is an allen wrench?

8:32: Oh, that’s an allen wrench.

8:45: Bright idea:  I can’t move this heavier-than-expected box to the bedroom, so let’s dump the contents out right here and carry them there.

8:46: Why in the hell are there this many parts to a stupid bedframe?

9:04: Ok. All set up. No, not the bed, just my bed-putting-together area. Opening package of nuts and bolts.

9:05: Well hell, who knew bolts bounced like that on carpet? Those suckers sure can roll too.

9:15: Using magnet from the refrigerator door to gather the nuts and bolts.  Pretty sure I got them all.

9:20: Instructions are in Japanese. This is unfortunate.

9:34: Pets are gathering around me in curiosity.  One dog has become designated project manager.  The ne’er-do-well (aka Holly the Cat) does not approve.  Daughter is rocking back and forth with her hands over her face.

9:47: I have managed to fasten “A” to “B.”  This is going to be a snap now.

10:24: All “A’s” are now fastened to all “B’s.”

10:26: I notice what seems to be a small warning that all “C” pieces needed to be lined up with the “B” pieces before fastening to the “A” pieces.  You would think they would put that in bigger print. Preferably in English.

10:48: Small disagreement with daughter over exactly when the “two hours” bet began.  She has graciously allowed me an additional two hours.  I don’t appreciate her smirk, I’ll tell you that much.

11:26: The dog is a distraction.  He is watching me and making me nervous.  I can’t work like this.

11:43: To my daughter: Why in the hell are you still filming? Put the phone down and come help me or I will disown you and all of your future children for sixteen generations.

11:52: The cat is staring at me with disdain.  I don’t like the implication that she thinks she’s better than me.

12:24pm: Daughter appears to be shocked by my language, claiming it is both inappropriate and anatomically impossible.  The neighbors from three doors down agree. All furry inhabitants of my house have relocated to the opposite end of my condo.

12:36: I seem to have scraped my knuckles using this allen wrench. It is uncomfortable but I will press on.

12:54: I have had to send daughter to the pharmacy for band-aids and Neosporin.  I suspect I am close to losing consciousness from blood loss.

1:22: The frame seems to be halfway complete now.  I need to place the spokes into the holes for the headboard.  It looks as though they will easily screw right in.

1:23: The spokes will not easily screw right in.

1:25: The spokes can be jammed in and hammered together with a mallet, however.

1:54:  Whoever invented this God forsaken allen wrench to begin with?

2:03: I can’t fit “tab AAA” into “slot ZZZ,” so I am Gorilla Gluing the pieces together. Thank the gods that be for Gorilla Glue.

2:14: This bed is surely one of the nine circles of Hell that Dante referenced.

2:56: I never want to sleep on this piece of crap bed frame.  May all of the designers of this bed frame live forever in a flea-infested home.

3:24: I am done.  I have sixteen extra pieces, but I have no idea where they belong.  I am going to ignore the extra nut and bolt, too.

3:29: I am drinking a bottle of wine and trying to get my animals to come out from under the couch.  My daughter chooses this moment to remind me that I owe her $15.

3:30: I Gorilla Glue $15 to my daughter’s shirt. The one she’s wearing.

All told, I am thrilled that I put the thing together myself; I’m always proud when I finish a complicated project.  I also keep reminding myself of just how cheap this thing was … that cheers me up a bit. That said, I can’t help but wonder two things.  How on earth will I ever get this thing apart again when I’m ready to move?

And how do I unglue my fingers from the dog?