My Faithful Readers, today is a good freakin’ day.
Today is New Bed Day!!
Not only is today New Bed Day, but today marks the first time in the nine years we’ve been together that Grace and I will actually own a legitimate adult bed.
Early on in college, both of us were saddled with the awful tiny bunkbeds that come standard with any holding cell dorm room.
Fun fact: Grace shoved me out of the top bunk and down to the floor more times than I can count and every time she’d be none-the-wiser in the morning when I recounted why I was suffering from a bloody nose and low-grade concussion. Although a tiny gal, she packs quite the wallop when sleeping.
Later in college, we shared my bitchin’ futon. There was only one teeny-tiny drawback to the futon. That being that it was, well, a futon and futons are inherently awful for anything more than passing out on top of after too much tequila and/or serving as a modest upgrade over sleeping on the floor.
We slept on that sucker for the better part of two years. I’m fairly sure my aching back and neck have yet to forgive me for it.
When we moved to Boston we were all-kinds of broke. Apparently moving across the country with no set plans for gainful employment is not the ideal way to pad your bank account. Since we were broke, we went cheap in the bed department and spent the first six months or so sleeping on various air mattresses.
In our defense, we went all out and bought the double-decker, high-quality air mattress. The problem is that air mattresses aren’t really designed for everyday use. Air mattresses are meant to be one of those things—sorta like a rotisserie cooker or a food dehydrator—that you pull out once every year or two and then tuck away again.
Needless to say, the air mattress experiment didn’t last long. We popped the first one, got a replacement and popped that one in short order as well. It got to the point that we’d have to pump it up before bed and then by morning, we’d wake up completely taco’d in the middle of the mostly-deflated air mattress.
Finally, Grace and I had had enough and we went out to get a real bed.
Given that we were still pretty much broke and still naive enough to think that “a bed is a bed” we stopped in the very closest furniture store we could find and were determined to walk out with a bed.
The problem is the nearest furniture store also happened to be the second-nearest dollar store.
Southie doesn’t have a lot of fancy furniture stores, but it does have plenty of dollar store, Goodwill, and other second-hand type stores.
It just so happens that one of the dollar stores, Dollar City to be precise, had recently expanded their repertoire from candles with Jesus on them, sketchy Mexican sodas and roughly thirteen kinds of bleach. They were now in the “discount furniture” business as well.
We bought a full-size mattress and box spring for a grand total of $175. After spending the better part of 45 minutes trying to twist and turn and wedge the damned thing up the forty-thousand flights of stairs to our apartment, we had a bed.
More or less.
It was uncomfortable pretty much right from the start. We assumed it would need some time to break-in to get comfortable.
It was loud and noisy from the start. We assumed it was because we didn’t have a frame and it was just sitting on the ground. Did I mention we were cheap and broke?
We gave it plenty of time—roughly four years—to break in and we’ve had a frame under it for the better part of the last three years to stop the noise.
Now this may shock you, but our dollar store bed never got comfortable and it never got less noisy.
It still creaks and groans every time you roll over or sit up or itch your foot with your other foot or really anytime you do anything more than think about moving. In fact, if you think about moving hard enough, it’d probably start creaking and groaning anyway.
The mattress has gotten saggy and you can feel the springs. We’ve run out ways to flip and turn the mattress so that one of us isn’t constantly being stabbed by the bed prison-yard style.
We’ve been talking about getting a new bed off and on for the past two years or so, but it’s one of those purchases that you talk about and talk about but never really follow through on…you know, like, lakeside property or that big vacation to INSERT PLACE YOU REALLY WANNT GO or crystal meth from that creepy guy in the mailroom.
Roughly a month ago—with our anniversary on the horizon—I told Grace that instead of buying each other presents; we should just buy ourselves a new bed and consider it a present to both of us, from both of us. She was down with the idea and we were good to go.
So just yesterday we went out for a day of bed hunting and gorging on pub food. Ironically enough, it turns out that testing beds is pretty much the greatest idea in the world after you’ve devoured your own weight in pub food.
We plopped down on a bunch of beds at—wait for it—Sleep-a-Rama (yeah, that’s a real name) and played the Goldilocks game as we eliminated beds that were too soft or too hard.
Eventually, we plopped down on one that was just right…and we nearly stayed there forever. It was all-kinds of comfy and given the food coma that was setting in, I was more than ready to give it a real test-drive by taking a little snooze.
My plans were thwarted by the sales guy who wanted to give us the full-on sales pitch for just about every mattress in the place, even though we’d basically told him this was the one we want and he should stop trying to sell us other, cheaper mattresses.
Despite being a total nap-blocker, he did assuage my initial sticker shock when he informed us that the bed was half off because they were having a moving sale or going out of business sale or a we forgot to pay our taxes sale…I don’t really remember. I was full of buffalo wings and pulled pork sliders and in a food coma…it’s all a blur.
Anyway, we purchased the sucker and it was delivered today and is resting comfortably in our bedroom.
I did what you are required to do with any new bed and I jumped up and down on it for about five minutes giggling like a school girl. I then hit a bunch of Macho Man elbow drops onto my pillows jumping off the dressers.
After that I made the bed and proceeded with my regularly scheduled adult life.
So there you have it folks, that’s the tale of our many crappy beds and everything that led to today, New Bed Day!
Update: I’ve had some questions about what we did with the Dollar City bed. I summed it up earlier on Facebook, but here’s the basic recap:
I assumed that since we bought it in Southie we had to dispose of it Southie-style.
As such, I drug the Dollar City bed out to the dumpster…and shot it in the head three times with a pistol. I then tossed the pistol into the river and burned the mattress and box spring before going into a local pub and enjoying a few frosty beverages whilst bitching about the state of the Red Sox.