A free futon + a bonus epiphany

Last night, the evening was gorgeous. We took a nice relaxing walk around the east side, eating ice cream, laughing and talking. And then it happened. I knew right away that the tranquility had come to an end. Far in the distance, I saw le pièce de résistance. It was standing right there, in the dark corner of the street – a lonely and beautiful futon made out of lacquered maple wood. Some rich people from a historic house got rid of it on garbage night. Who are we to pass by such nice trash? Almost simultaneously, we exclaimed, “This is perfect for the tree house!”

After fiddling with the futon and the mattress for a little while, E. determined that they can be transported. He begged that I stand next to the find while he ran to get the car. He didn’t need to convince me -- the night was pleasant and breezy; the spot was deserted and perfect for meditation. Did I mention I had a bag with Finnish dark chocolate from Store24 in my hands? So, off he went to get the car, while I leaned against the rich folks' white picket fence (not making this up) and assumed the position of Rodin’s famous sculpture. No, not really, but I did think. I pondered how advantageous it was that I didn’t have a cell phone with me because I would have been tempted to call someone to avoid wasting time just standing. I was forced to spend time in solitary confinement with my thoughts. It was nice. I realized that I don’t do it often enough. Yes, I do think a bit when I go to bed, but I’m usually so tired, I pass out almost the moment my head hits the pillow.

So, while E. fiddled with the futon and the accompanying mattress some more, lamented the fact that his key-chain Leatherman was taken away at the airport, and figured out that he needs a tool to take apart the futon, I didn’t hesitate for a minute – I suggested that he drive home with the mattress in the trunk, get a drill and come back to pick up the piece of furniture. I wanted more time to just stand – not doing anything. I understood that I was wrong before – the tranquility was just beginning.

P.S. The plastic bag with chocolate turned out to be a great bolts-and-screws holder. Who knew?

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