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It went like this:
My ride begins to the shuddering growl of the garage door opening and the cool air of the sunset. I strap on the helmet, slide my sleek sunglasses over my face, hook my cinched down pannier onto the rack, swing my leg over the bike and press the button to close the door behind me. It’s chilly to begin, and I climb slowly up Irving, the rising sun shining brightly in my face.
Tuesday night. We decided we needed another couch in the living room. Mom found one online for $40, but I didn’t feel like driving up to Russian Hill, picking it up, driving back, bringing it up, etc. There happened to be a love seat without owner sitting on 18th street, less than a block away. ‘Why not just check it out?’ we thought. So we walked down to the couch, examined it, and were pleased to find it not only clean but wide and sturdy. Too sturdy, and much too wide, as it turned out. I lay down to give it a test and was very comfortable. A couple walking their dog stopped to share a laugh, telling us they thought at first that I was homeless and that Mom was trying to wake me up. “Let’s just see how heavy it is” we thought. And it wasn’t too heavy.
“I guess this means it just isn’t our couch” I said.
“It’s not going anywhere” I said, “we have to just break the fucking thing”.
Mom agreed: “go get a hammer Gabe”.
“we need some rope” said Mom, “so we could just lower it down slowly”.
“I don’t have any rope, do you have rope?”
“I do have some rope in my car”
I knew the car was parked a steep four blocks uphill. “hm”
Mom went down to look in the garage for something helpful – maybe some rope, and I clung to the couch hoping the neighbors stayed inside and that somehow, this whole thing could just be over and forgotten.
Mom got downstairs and called up “there’s nobody down here right now Gabriel – just dump it”
“are you sure?”
“yes just do it there’s nobody coming”
I began to maneuver the couch into position “are you clear?”
“Yes I’m clear just dump it!”
There was a slender tree branch reaching our way and offering perhaps a softened fall.
“I’m going to try to throw it through the tree – are you ready?”
“yes go now!”
“one… two…. three!” I pushed it out and away and watched it fall quickly and suddenly down, thud, and stop. It felt so good. I ran downstairs and out front and together Mom and I righted the fallen couch, and seeing it unscathed and intact I felt sorry for having stabbed it and torn its apholstery – what a beautiful piece of furniture. Mom seemed similarly impressed:
“It really is a nice couch – look it didn’t even get hurt.”
“shall we set it over here?”
“yes. Maybe the church will want it”
A pair of bums enjoyed a few subsequent evenings on the couch, and I watched from my window the next night as they laughed, smoked, and reclined comfortably. By Friday, the couch was gone.
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