Thursday, 5 March 2015

Another sitcom week

I blogged recently about how my life sometimes takes a slightly sitcom turn. Well this week looked a bit like that too.

It all started with the bed. We have a lovely, king size wooden bed with large headboard and moderate footboard. (Now I've made it sound like something out of Versailles, which it isn't). A few weeks ago, as I said, we woke up one morning to find a giant divot in the middle of the mattress and me and the Ball & Chain clinging to each edge. (You have no idea what kind of dreams that elicited.) Turned out to be nothing more than the metal frame slipping, which the B&C assured me he could fix with bits and pieces, and of course, duct tape.

Famous last words. Two nights ago, I woke to the familiar "Is that an earthquake" sensation and immediately hissed "Don't move" at the B&C. (Last time, while clinging to the edge, he still managed to fall asleep and rolled back into the middle of the bed. All his fault.) But again, we woke up to a decidedly slanted bed and the mattress was duly dragged to the floor that night.

Not quite this bad, but you get the picture. 

Taking matters into my own hands (which I usually do when duct tape is the proposed remedy) I phoned the store where we bought the bed frame. They had me take photos of the offending metal parts, then e-mailed me to say they couldn't tell whether it was broken.What? Do normal beds cause bodies to roll into the middle, a foot below the edges of the mattress?  I explained that I wasn't looking to blame anyone, the bed's ten years old after all; I was just trying to get hold of another metal part. They would look me up in their records, they assured me.

And this is where it got decidedly more sit-comical. The customer service rep got back to me and said I didn't buy the bed there. I assured her that I had and that it came with a matching TV armoire. We then established that she was looking at the account attached to my old house. Locating my new account she still insisted that I hadn't purchased the bed from them. Given that ten years ago there wasn't another furniture store in my neighborhood and I know I hadn't trekked out to the burbs, I was beginning to doubt my sanity.

"Nope. We have nothing after the two seater sectional", she said.

"I don't have a two seater sectional" I countered.

And then the penny dropped. It's that other Toni Hargis in Chicago. Seriously. The woman gets everywhere. I almost paid her City dog sticker last year. We used to take our dogs to the same vets and on several occasions I was called about a chocolate lab, (which I know I don't have). When you have more senior moments than are welcome, this situation just complicates things. I immediately sent her an e-mail about the latest "incident". (We haven't met yet but we're on good terms.) She told me that any time she has to give her name now, she immediately adds her street location. Clever girl.

Meanwhile, the B&C says he has fixed the bed with nothing more than a couple of 2x4 pieces of wood. Hmmm...... watch this space.


  1. I think this account of the bed and the doppelganger is hilarious!
    Keep hanging on there!!!!!
    Maggie x

  2. What are the odds that there's another Toni in your immediate area?

    I shall wait to see how B&C's latest fix-it job turns out...

  3. Gigi - she even has the same middle name!

  4. Surely there's only one Toni Hargis!


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