on friday, thing two and i set off on an…adventure. in case i haven’t mentioned it, americorps pays participants a tiny living allowance of $12,000 for their year of service. this works out to less than minimum wage. and that works out to not being able to afford lots and lots of things—including the luxury of being picky. that said, when a departing member of the corps let us know that she had an old sofa to get rid of—a pullout with no mattress—the $15 price tag was an offer we couldn’t refuse. so thing two and i wound up trying to retrieve it.
thing two has a station wagon, so we took his car and hoped for the best. what we wound up with was a truly awful beverly hillbillies scenario of bungee-cording the couch upside down to the top of the car and riding back across town at twenty miles an hour while i kept one hand out the window to make sure the damn thing wasn’t slipping. which it was. eventually, a good sized bump or pothole (very common in the busted-ass streets of new orleans) caused one of the bungee hooks to pop, and we had to pull over and reconfigure things in hopes of successfully completing the last mile of the journey. which we did. quel triomphe!
we wanted to wait for thing one’s narrow ass to help two bring the sofa in, but two needed to drive somewhere else, so i went ahead and put my yoga-sculpted guns to use. more sweat, but it was worth it—we finally had something to sit on, even if the absence of the mattress causes the seating area to slope such that the cushions gradually and constantly slide backward into the couchly abyss. i’ve learned quickly that earning less than minimum wage causes a definitive shift in one’s priorities; that i have a place to sit at all is suddenly enough.