The Desk

When we figured out how we wanted to arrange our bedroom the other day, Foxy J and I both said, "Wouldn't it be nice to have a corner desk in that corner?" We had, of course, gotten rid of the little desk we had before moving because until last Wednesday we thought that we'd be moving into a furnished apartment for a month and didn't want to deal with storing all our furniture somewhere. As luck would have it, Foxy discovered a free corner desk on Craigslist this afternoon.

I called the number from the ad when I got home from work, and then I headed to Lower Queen Anne to pick up the desk. I made sure to ask when I called whether the legs were detachable because I knew I wouldn't fit the desk in my car otherwise, but I didn't think to ask what tools I should bring to detach said detachable legs. The nice lady at the office giving away the desk provided me with the tools she had available, but even I know that you can't loosen a nut with a screwdriver. I made do with what I had, though, and twenty minutes later the legs were off the desk.

So I carried the massive thing down the stairs and to my car, only to find that, even without the legs, the thing did not fit in my car. I was in the middle of trying to shove this five-by-three slab of wood into my backseat when a little Asian lady walked by and offered to help. I thanked her, but it was obvious to me by then that this was not going to happen, with or without her help. I gave up on the backseat plan and went back to Plan A, which was the trunk, leaving a good foot and a half of desk sticking out the back.

The main problem with this arrangement was that I didn't have any rope or bungee cords to keep my trunk relatively closed and to keep the desk from flying out the back while I drove. Conscious of the approaching 30-minute limit of the spot I was parked in, I ran around the block to a convenience store that turned out to be not so convenient: no rope, no bungees, and on top of that no semblance of customer service. The cashier wouldn't even look at me when I asked if she knew of any nearby stores that sold rope or bungees.

The mechanic in the auto shop next door, though, was much nicer. This was out of character for me, but I decided to go into a place that I suspected did not sell what I was looking for and ask anyway, just in case. I explained what I needed the bungee for, and the man went to the back of his shop, found a bungee cord, then handed it to me and told me to bring it back later.

Now armed with a single bungee cord to keep my trunk closed and my desk in, I set upon my new task: figuring out a way home that did not involve going over thirty miles per hour (I didn't trust the bungee or the legality of my little setup beyond that). Seattle, by the way, is a tricky place to get around, especially when you're looking for a bridge across Lake Union that is not a freeway. Long story not so long, I got home forty minutes later.

And now we have a very cool free corner desk. Free stuff rocks, Craigslist rocks, and nice auto mechanics rock.