So the other week I bought a couch at Amvets. According to Steve, lots of thrift stores have the names and numbers of people who will deliver purchases from the store to your home. The man whose name and number I was given is named Myron and he is Hungarian. Myron had a whole row of gold teeth and talked a lot. He was fun.
The couch is pretty and poufy and since it makes you sit up straight, Steve calls it a Grandma couch. Quite nicely, he did not mention that this also means the couch is uncomfortable. No, he waited until I admitted that myself. The exchange, occuring at the moment Steve began eating his dinner, went something like this:
Whitney: Wait, I wanted to talk to you.
Steve, walking towards living room: Hang on...
Whitney, following him: No! Don't eat on the couch--it's uncomfortable!
Steve, turning quickly: See! Ha! It is uncomfortable!
So I guess I bought an uncomfortable couch which now means we must find a super comfortable chair to accompany it. At least it's pretty!