On the face of it moving a sofa from A to B was never going to be an historic event, an ‘ah-ha’ moment, or a pivotal turning point in my life. Yet as this seemingly mundane event unfolded in a somewhat adult style rendition of an Enid Blyton classic, I was reminded of some of my own frailties and flaws, leading to the realisation that age doesn’t necessarily equate to wily wisdom.
To protect the identities of the other parties associated with this personal Eureka moment let’s just say that I am indebted to Mikey, Flossy, and Lukas, who gave up their time to help me out, yet unconsciously set the scene for some significant personal reflection.
To set the scene, Mikey kindly assisted with the transport arrangements – a fuck- off sized Sprinter van that could quite comfortably carry the entire stock of any John Lewis store, so a 3-seater sofa was easily going to fit. Indeed, put wings on it and you would have a Lockheed C-130 Hercules military transport plane. And maybe that was my first point of reflection – my eagerness to exaggerate, especially when I am excited, frustrated, or bored – most of the time, I guess. I nonetheless have a good eye for distance and measurement. I mean I have a constant reminder of what is more than eight inches always within my grasp. But back to the storyline. On lifting the sofa that Flossy informed me had been imported from Turkey, I wondered if the drugs were still inside it. Come on – in the movies the stash is always stored inside furniture! This thing weighed a fucking tonne! Not wishing to expose my discomfort to Mikey, who looked like he did this sort of thing in his sleep, I held it together until this deadweight, equivalent to the weight of approximately three adult corpses, had reached the lip of the Hercules whereupon we both shoved it in. Oh missus!
On reaching our destination Mikey managed to manoeuvre the truck on a sixpence and soon we were carrying the asset towards the entrance where the straightforward process of elevating it up the stairs to a second floor flat awaited. We seemed to have developed a positive momentum and maybe I was getting used to shouldering my part of the burden without moaning, a trait of which I am true giant. A chirpy neighbour, who I will call ‘Dan the man’ (because his name is Dan) was on hand to help manoeuvre this colossus of a couch, but Houston we had a problem! This fucker was going nowhere internally with the legs still on. Maybe my hitherto reliable sense of distance was defective. However we contemplated the angles this thing wasn’t going in. For a brief moment I remembered the odd occasion when I had pondered, from the rear, the exact same quandary within the boundaries of the boudoir. Humping it back to the van and back to the original point of origin I felt utterly defeated. Yet I hadn’t fully acknowledged the help of Benjamin Franklin, the US statesman, author, publisher, scientist, inventor, and diplomat. He wasn’t there (since he died in 1790) but his immortal words were – “Out of adversity comes opportunity” – and there was always tomorrow.
Twenty-four hours later with Flossy and Lukas primed to help with the heavy lifting at the final destination, Mikey again landed at the rendezvous and I took it upon myself to remove the legs with a screwdriver. Even using my better developed right arm, I still couldn’t make an impression on the bastard screws holding firm the problematic legs. A sudden and marked melancholy consumed me. In the immortal words of Private Frazer of Dads Army fame, we were doomed! Funny how I am optimistic about the big-ticket life events, yet I often sweat the small stuff. Low grade irksome events and I’m likely to blow a gasket but present me with the big daunting stuff and I’m often remarkably chilled. The times I’ve argued with a jar when I couldn’t easily unscrew the lid or told a plastic bin bag to fuck off because I couldn’t open it up. I am an enigma wrapped up in a string of expletives.
Updating Flossy by mobile I was somewhat surprised with her tone, reminiscent of a demented mafia hit woman – “Just get it here! We will remove the legs!” I simply complied and motioned Mikey to put his foot down. Parking in the only convenient landing space – the nearby Samaritans carpark – Lukas got to work with an industrial drill come powerful screwdriver. This fucking mega-tool made light of the retaining screws measuring at least six inches in length – we already know how reliable my perception of size is! The only downside was the noise. As subtle as a Kalashnikov machine gun in an echo chamber. I just imagined the proximate sympathetic Samaritan call taker – “Brian, tell me more of your suicidal thoughts …” RATATATAT!!! (pause) RATATATAT!!! – “Brian! Brian! Are you still there? BRIAN!” If cringing were an Olympic sport I would have collected gold and skulked off to the darker side of the Hercules.
Finally, the embarrassment subsided and like a herd of gazelles we were accelerating the sofa towards the doorway. Without the use of lube we were in the hallway! Again, a spontaneous wave of depression engulfed my consciousness. Without an act of God this gargantuan of the upholstery universe had no chance of progressing skyward. Or so I had convinced myself. A brief and effective resolution entered my head – a desolate ditch and half a can of petrol would do the trick. Then Lukas took control and a remake of the Friends episode made famous for the Pivot! Pivot! Pivot! scene began to roll. Lukas became Archimedes and coached us in the ancient art of chattel trigonometry. He was on fire, and as we inched towards our goal, pushing, flipping and, of course, pivoting my doubts evaporated. I had earlier doubted that two into one was possible but then I recalled my favourite Swedish film genre, and smiled broadly when we eventually reached the summit. As Lukas, slightly perspiring from his toil, hammered those pesky legs back on I didn’t give a toss if the rest of the apartment block were deafened. Success often needed a spasm of epic volume.
As I relaxed on the sofa two things struck me – firstly, a sliding doors moment, whereupon seemingly inconsequential everyday moments can often make the most important relationships in our lives that more radiant and lasting. And secondly, when the moment comes to sell the place this fucker is staying put!
© Ian Kirke 2021 and all photographs.