My couch smells like floral pickled urine with a side of mouthwash. It’s not really conducive to inviting company over for drinks. We’ve tried every cleaner known to man, we’ve had the windows open for days, and you still get dizzy just walking in the door. Bad kitty! That’s why we can’t have nice things.
Actually, my couch passed “nice” a couple years ago. It was closely followed by my comforter, my stove, and my big screen TV. My jeep just hit 50,000 miles. I’m expecting to wake up one morning to find it looking wistfully through repair shops in the yellow pages. Older cars like to get regularly pampered at the dealership day spa.
It kind of took me by surprise that my house, my appliances, and furniture are no longer new. I miss the new house smell, but I can live with that. More ominous is the fact that my term life insurance policy ran out last year. It can’t be good when your personal warranty expires.
All the signs were there. The shoebox full of pills, the post-menopausal panty liners from Depends, and a shiny new handlebar in the tub. My insurance agent assured me that for pennies a day, I could switch to their whole life policy. I had visions of Alex Trebec telling me that my loved ones would be able to afford a funeral that didn’t involve an old pickup truck, a cliff, and a gallon of lighter fluid.
I hate buying an appliance and the store wants to sell me their special warranty plan. Just build it right in the first place and I won’t need your stinkin’ peace of mind. Nevertheless, I decided to go with the new policy. It can’t be canceled and the rates won’t go up. Now if they would throw in a repair or replacement provision, I’d be golden.
I may not be shiny and new anymore, but I figure I’m more like a favorite pair of jeans – well worn and comfortable. I won’t worry about being put out on the curb until I start to smell like my couch.
I was sure this post was about the coming Rapture! In any case, sounds like you are ready to be swept away to a place where all is shiny and new and repair shops give out new cars rather than taking your money.
I’d prefer it if I could get there in this lifetime. I hope that’s not asking too much.
You know, I think we have the same couch. Although mine doesn’t smell bad, it has seen better days. A lot better days. And, you know, it probably smells better than I do.
I can’t relate to any of this. I don’t know what you people are talking about. Course, I bought all my stuff 2nd hand and it came with the urine smell. I miss my cat every time I look at the couch (I refuse to sit on it).
Love Terri’s comment! My couch has two built in recliners and the fabric is wearing thin where hubby and I park our asses!
I have a dent on my side of the couch, and the bed, and the desk chair, …
‘Floral pickled urine’ – isn’t that a sign of diabetes? Or is that acetone? Either way, your pussy may need attention 😉
My couch doesn’t stink, but it is old. But it’s so comfortable, I hesitate to trade it in for one that might not be as comfy….
From another writer’s perspective:
Everything in this post built up to and supported that last paragraph.
All your posts are damn good.
This one was GREAT !!!
Thanks, Alexander. I was actually quite pleased with the way this one developed.
Isn’t the pickup, gasoline, and cliff method the usual version of funerals in West Virginia?
Karla, thank you for making me laugh today! I can relate to the appliances reaching their expiration dates all at once. And the car nearing its end. Not to mention our back fence, which is rotting in the Florida heat and threating to topple over with the next gust of wind. I won’t even get into my own need of a total overhaul!
I loved what you said at the end about being well worn and comfortable. That reminded me of a Bon Jovi song called ‘Just Older’ –
“I like the bed I’m sleeping in
It’s just like me, it’s broken in
It’s not old – just older
Like a favorite pair of torn blue jeans
This skin I’m in it’s alright with me
It’s not old – just older”