Every week we ask everyone who hangs out around here to answer a tough question. This week:
What’s the worst piece of furniture you’re still holding on to?
Rules are simple: Everyone has something they have kept for about three moves too many. There’s some chair that your Uncle Robert gave you that you just can’t help but love, even though it’s filled with wild animals. Which of your possessions is it looking increasingly like you’ll be buried with?
The sheets are new, but my bed itself is the same bed I slept on when I was a teenager. This same dumb queen mattress and box spring have accompanied me all the way. Every time I move I almost leave it behind just to force myself to upgrade the thing I spent eight hours (six hours? four hours?) with every night, but it just never happens. I need some sort of intervention where my friends force me to go to IKEA, because even that would be an upgrade at this point.
A dresser from our first bedroom set. I have managed to cycle out the sleigh bed and the single nightstand, but the dresser still stays. Outwardly, it looks great, dignified, with a lovely cherry finish. But the drawers have never opened properly (they are weirdly short and with a strange catch, so they only open like three inches at most), the handles are falling off, and one drawer also will NOT close. It is not terrible, but I dream about new dressers often.
This couch is the Craigslist ad you’ll never answer. It sat in my friend Susan’s parents’ house for the longest time. The year was 2009, and I was moving into a new place and had little to no furniture. I was working at Starbucks then. Susan’s parents saw my plead for furniture online and submitted to me this humble couch, available for pickup that night from their curb. So my 5’4″ and 150-pound self drove over after work and stared at the long couch, wondering how the hell I would get it into the back of my truck by myself (it was late). With a lot of finesse, I managed to get the damn thing up there. Then it started to rain. I eventually got it home and unloaded it into my living room. That couch moved with me from house to house over the years, and now it resides in my carport, ravaged by raccoons and smokers.
This chair is over half a century old. My grandparents bought it for my father when he was living with them as a child. It included two dressers, a mirror, and a desk. My father did his homework in this chair. I did my homework in this chair. Now, I use it to prop up my feet while I watch TV or play video games. My wife hates it. It’s outdated, it does not match anything else in the apartment, and at this point it might be more Elmer’s wood glue than chair, but a hassock would just be lame, and this chair is bursting with sentimental value.
This might be an odd response, but I technically don’t own any furniture in America or Korea. Every apartment I have lived in here has been fully furnished, so I haven’t needed to buy anything. I haven’t technically lived in my own place in America in years, so when I go home I tend to sleep in the guest bedroom which is full of things that aren’t mine.