The couch is still in the hallway. No neighbor complaints. Yet.
However, my landlord freaked. And then she called me back much later, seemingly more calm, and left the following message on my machine:
"Ok, so I talked it over with my husband. We've decided: tomorrow, you and your boyfriend can bring the couch back downstairs. Then, I'll put it in the van in exchange for a couch we will give you -- it's our own couch, from our house, in our basement. It's a nice couch, also with a fold-out bed, and you can just take it and I'll take the one that won't fit in your door. Ok? I think that's the perfect solution. I'll call you to confirm, but it will be at three o'clock tomorrow."
This message disturbed me in many ways. I am trying to be as zen as possible about this, because as annoying and preachy as it sounds, I think I'm finally starting to accept that worrying about things doesn't help them much. And honestly? The things I stress the least are almost always (let's say 99% of the time) the things that turn out best. It's curious.
So in my zenness, I let the fact that she just started making decisions without asking my opinion first just slide. I called her back and said, "I have already taken two half-days off of work. This is a problem because I am currently working six days per week, and I go to school full-time. So taking a half-day off just once is an incredible inconvenience. Three times is impossible. Maybe I could work it out so that I could be home at noon, but three o'clock? No. Absolutely not."
She responded with a message that actually said, "Mademoiselle, you can't say that. There is no other way. We can't get the couch out of the hallway any other day. You have to be home tomorrow at three."
When I finally got in touch with her, I had a variety of things to answer to that. The majority of them weren't very nice. But I remained selective (and zen!) and simply stated that I could not pay the rent if I did not keep my job, and that I don't have the luxury of missing three half days per week. I know my landlord doesn' t work for a living, and that she inherited the money that allowed her to buy two apartments in Paris that she now only semi-looks after. I don't expect her to really understand the words I NEED TO WORK but she does understand the words I NEED TO PAY RENT. So then she suggested I find a friend to come over, bring down the couch, and so forth. Wha? Wait... wha? My friends work, too. And seriously? Not their favorite way to spend a Thursday afternoon.
Am I weird in thinking that this is her responsibility?
Then I dropped a bit of a bomb, and said that I would rather just buy my own couch than take the one coming from her house. I've been living with her shitty, ugly furniture for years. Here's something that she clearly stated is FROM HER BASEMENT and I'm supposed to just say, "Oh, ok!" She got a little upset and said, "Mademoiselle, please don't think that this is an ugly couch, not at all! It's a great couch, and I'm not giving it to you to get rid of it."
I said, "I think it would be better if you just took the couch you bought back to the store, and then I took the time to find something on my own. What if you bring by your couch, and I don't like it? What then?"
"You'll like it."
"Maybe. But if I don't, I'm the one who has to live with it. I've been living with half-broken furniture for five years. I would prefer to sit on my floor for a month while I get the money together to buy a proper couch. I'll just take it with me when I leave."
"This couch is fine... you just have to put a new fabric on it and it's as good as new!"
Right.
So THEN I said, "Well, why don't you keep your own couch and just return the one you bought?"
"I can't," she admitted, which proves my theory that she bought the couch second-hand. "I already bought it."
"I know, " I said, "But a furniture store has to respect the fact that you bought it and couldn't fit it through your door. We never even used it. It's in the exact same condition as it was when you brought it over..."
"Yes, but they won't take it back."
So we're in a bit of a conundrum. I don't want her basement couch. I'll admit that I'm being abnormally unflexible about this whole gig. I just don't appreciate a few aspects to this story:
1. It took her forever to agree to buy a couch
2. It took her forever to find one
3. It took her forever to deliver it
4. The couch she bought was second-hand (nothing wrong with second hand, but don't pretend it's a brand new couch when there are clearly stains on the arm rests...)
5. The couch she bought can't fit through my front door
6. Now she just wants to give me a couch from her basement instead
7. She wants me take another day off to deal with all of this
8. She actually got upset when I told her I don't want her couch
It looks like I'm sitting on the floor for the next few days. I don't mind that in the slightest, actually. But I do mind taking in a musty couch to replace a broken one. So believe me: I will let her know if her skanky-ass basement couch is too ugly for me. I'm not above that. Or below that. Whichever way you look at it.
I don't think you are being unreasonable at all. Don't take the basement couch, it's probably full of mold and cat hair!
I just found your blog the other day and I'm really enjoying it. I love your book list idea and even jotted down a few titles for my year's reading goals.
Sorry about your clic-clac dilemma but I think you're right about the basement couch...eergh. No way!
I agree that you're being quite reasonable. Screw her couch, you don't need it.
I had a landlord who told me that the furniture in the suite he gave me was junk, and would have been in the trash if it weren't in my suite. So when a junky, ugly little table got broken by accident, I thought nothing of it. Then he turned around and claimed it was an "expensive wedding present". I mean, I would understand the fact he kept my damage deposit if he'd not told me it was junk in the first place -- meaning, if he'd not forced me to live with the damn flimsy thing.