Once a week I go play DDR with my Thirds at Chelsea Piers or Dave & Buster's. (We call each other Thirds because, together, we make one awesomely-functioning person and there's three of us.) So that's what we'd just finished doing last night when we discovered one of the most awesome garbage finds I've come across in forever. It was gi-normous and weighed about 50 pounds, which is why it was still there. So I frantically dialed Eric, pulled him away from his studying for finals and begged him to drive into the city to come get it. Despite my unintelligible rantings, he agreed.
So the Thirds and I went across the street to the bar with the outdoor cafe at 23rd and 10th and made bizarre requests with hand gestures and were relieved when they were accomodating. We left my new find in frantic yelling and pummeling distance should anyone try to steal it away. One raspberry ale later, Eric and I were busy pulling all of his drums out of the trunk, putting one backseat down and the front passenger seat down, tossing everything back into the car as best we could and driving across the Williamsburg bridge, cramped and unable to see out of the right side of the car. (We have a Sentra and this thing is over 6 feet tall.) I should mention we were also gleefully clapping our hands over how lucky we are that few NYCers have cars and those that do (apparently) wouldn't want this.
So, here it is in front of an Ikea Billy bookshelf, waiting to be hung in our spare bedroom:
As usual, I have done absolutely no cleaning or staging to show this to you because I'm too busy tripping over my excitement to post it.
The serendipity of this amazes me because, not two days before, my coffin-shaped pink and black rug arrived for that room. I have to outlaw any other coffin-shaped paraphernalia so it doesn't get TOO theme-y.
I love other people's garbage. I'm going to sand it down and re-stain it one day, but I'm going to hang it just as it is, scuffs and all, for now.