Hey 3.5 readers.
BQB here.
Please don’t buy furniture you have to assemble yourself. Don’t do it. Ever. Never, ever, ever. Just don’t do it.
Earlier this year I regaled you with how I ate $100 because I bought a desk that was missing parts and so infuriated was I that I just needed to get the thing into a dumpster and curl up in the fetal position and take deep breathes for 17 hours.
Maybe it wasn’t that bad, but still.
I told myself then I would never buy assemble yourself furniture ever again.
Then I did it again. I bought a cabinet. I liked the style and color and felt it would be a good fit for the space I wanted to put it in.
About an hour and a half into putting this thing together, I realize the entire back of the cabinet was not included.
Think that matters? Nope. Because the pre-drilled holes the instructions say should be drilled already so I can screw the back (that isn’t there) also isn’t there.
So I throw a temper tantrum. I curse like a sailor. Worse than a sailor. I was very creative.
I examine this thing like the Zapruder film. Maybe I’m missing something? Am I looking at it wrong? Maybe if I look at it in different ways, maybe I put it together upside down and I’ll find out I really should have done X, Y, Z and nope. Nothing. I was screwed.
I call customer service. The lady says I can bring it back to the store for a refund or if I’d rather, they’d send me the replacement parts.
I think about it. Well, I really do like the photos of the cabinet. I really think it would look nice. But then I ask myself, “Do I have faith that they won’t screw me again?”
Suddenly, I imagine the next 4 weeks of my life:
ME ON THE PHONE: Hey, you sent me a cabinet without the right parts. I need a back and I need the sides with screw holes already screwed in. I should drill them myself? Fuck you, I’m not a carpenter. Do I look like Bob Villa? If I knew how to drill holes and shit I’d just buy some wood and make a cabinet myself. Maybe that’s why Jesus was the savior because he was a carpenter and carpentry requires patience. Anyway, send the right parts please.
ME ON THE PHONE A WEEK LATER: Hi, I asked you to send me a back and the side with screw holes but there must have been a mix-up because you sent me a basket of stale croutons and a framed photo of 1980s teen heart throb Corey Haim. Can you send me a back and sides with drilled screw holes?
ME ON THE PHONE TWO WEEKS LATER: Hi, me again. Yeah, I asked for a back and sides with holes and you sent me a Corey Haim photo and a basket of croutons so I called you and asked you to send the right parts but instead you sent me a SpongeBob SquarePants DVD and a butter sculpture of Mike Tyson. Why are we not understanding each other? OK, you’ll send the right parts? Good.
ME ON THE PHONE THREE WEEKS LATER: Hi. So, I got the Corey Haim photo, the croutons, the SpongeBob DVD, and the butter boxer but what I need is a back and sides with pre-drilled screw holes. Yes. Please. This half put together cabinet has been in my living room forever now. A family of raccoons just built a home in it. OK, so this time you swear you’ll send me the correct and accurate parts.
ME ON THE PHONE FOUR WEEKS LATER: Hi. I was just wondering why is it when I said “Send me a back and sides with screw holes” you apparently heard “a rubber clown nose” and two cancelled ticket stubs to a Menudo concert. No. No, I don’t want you to try again. I give up. I will enjoy lighting this half-put together cabinet on fire and what? No, I will not pay for the expense of shipping you back the Corey Haim photo, the croutons, the…
So I told her I’d just bring it in and return it. And, from this day forward, I will never buy anything that requires self-assembly.
First, I’m not a cobbler. Doctors don’t send me do it yourself surgery kits so why the eff are furniture companies sending me do it yourself cabinet kits?
Second, there is apparently no pride in workmanship. There’s no one in the factory who gives a shit if I get a cabinet that works. The pieces are complicated that the workers can just throw a bunch of shit in the box and no one finds out until dumbass me opens it up.
Maybe I don’t even blame them. I can only assume the parts are made by little orphan Chinese kids who are grabbed up and forced into a childhood of slave labor for a nickel a day and the foreman is probably beating a drum and whipping them and telling them he’ll burn down their villages if they don’t pack X amount of boxes per day so I guess if that is the case (probably isn’t) then I guess I don’t blame those little Chinese kids for forgetting to drill my screw holes and for forgetting to add my back.
OK. Enough ranting. I have lost faith in the world. Do you want to lose your faith in humanity too? Then go on and buy assemble yourself furniture.
Bookshelf Battle 