Flat Destruction 101: The Joys of Kicking Apart a Sofa
By Bobby Brown
This was an article I didn’t plan, and whilst my lack of forward thinking has led to some travelling adventures, this really did spring up on me. Offering to help someone move is always a tricky task – do you expect a cheeky tenner in hand, or a pizza and few beers to call it a day? In this instance, I found my reward to be a new article.
There is a little tinge of savage joy that flashes through your body when someone asks you to, and I quote, “tear that sofa apart,” and this experience was no different. After a while of searching through cupboards and perusing old pictures, laughing ourselves stupid over haircuts from the mid-90’s, it was time to take tools to our task.
The sofa in question had three seats, worn leather, and no pennies down the side (I checked thoroughly). It was held together with several ridiculous screws that any smarter man might have taken a screwdriver to and taken apart nicely. I am not such a man. Me? Well, pardon the language, but I kicked the shit out of it. I kicked, jumped, rocked, pounded, and slammed that sofa around the room and took a lot of happiness from every note of cracking wood. And here is lesson one, of the class.
When in doubt, kick.
I’m sure you’re wondering, at this point, why this has anything to do with lighters or travelling. Allow me to clarify. The lighter in question, seen within the cover photo of this article, was found underneath the sofa, and upon sight gave me a sudden spark (get it? Spark? Lighter? That’s some wholesome comedy!) of inspiration. The travelling came in the form of Kirkcaldy Recycling Centre. A lovely little spot, not far off, and it encapsulated the Scottish idioms with a spray-painted sign reading ‘Clean up after yous’ emblazoned on the concrete wall in the grounds. The trip itself was a comfy jaunt, which saw a three seater shoved so far up my… intimacy… that I could wear my knees as earrings.
The rest of the day passed with a woozy bleach head, which I was actually thankful for. You see, the shower basin was not marble effect, and yet the mottled black design gave the subtle impression that it hadn’t been cleaned in… well, I’d give a time frame to complete the joke, but honestly the thing had never been cleaned. And I’d like to take this opportunity to make clear that the mouldy shower tray, overrun kitchen, and whatever else did belong to someone else. I can attest that I have cleaned my shower, at least once.
So with most of the rooms clean – I wasn’t going near the bedroom with an actual barge pole, nor a metaphorical one – it was time to settle in, grab some satay chicken and take a long, scalding shower somewhere else. And here’s the best part of the whole day, the greatest thing I came across, something that’s given me endless happiness since I came across it …
Gameboy Advance SP with Pokemon Yellow – A-thank you-very-much!
Editor: Floss Hafter-Smith