I went to my local Salvation Army Thrift Store late in the afternoon. They keep some furniture on the "porch" along the front side of the building. When I saw something gorgeous just around the corner, of course I had to check it out. There she stood, a beautiful yellow dresser. No price tag, kind of looking like she just came off the truck. Inside, I asked if the dresser was priced yet. It wasn't and wouldn't be until the next day.
I spent all evening agonizing about the dresser. I waffled back and forth about how much I was willing to spend, trying to convince myself that I had to have a budget of some sort. I knew in my heart that I would probably jump at any price, even if I couldn't really afford it. Still, I tried to condition myself for disappointment or walking away from this beauty.
I got up painfully early. Remember how I said I'm still kind of on college time? Well apparently one way to help break that habit would be to have dresser incentive every morning. I was terrified someone else would swoop in and buy "my" dresser. I was actually waiting at the door when Salvation Army opened at 8 am. Yup, I was that person.
It turned out I needn't have worried so much. The dresser wasn't out yet and I had to wait for the manager to arrive for it to be priced. That only took, oh, an hour. The store wasn't that big so by that point I had looked at practically every single thing there. The manager explained to me that the dresser had come from a house that had "bugs." The pick-up team hadn't know what kind- termites, bed bugs, wood beetles, fleas, whatever. At this point, I was recoiling and already itching. But I could see that wonderful dresser just waiting for me. Did I really thinks she could be infested with bugs? The manager said he wasn't planning to sell the dresser but that he could do a low price as long as I understood the risk. So I took her apart, painstakingly. I pulled out each drawer and beat it a bit so see if anything crawled out. I looked in every crevice for signs of creepy-crawlies. I lay on the ground so I could see the underside. No little streams or upward trails from termites. No odd air bubbles from beetles. Nothing suspicious at all, in fact. So yes, I was still a bit wary but mostly I really wanted that dresser! The manager named a price and I probably should have countered but I had already expressed way too much interest to pretend to waffle and his price was a quarter of what I had expected before knowing about the bug situation. Insanely low for such a fabulous piece of furniture, in fact. So yes, I jumped on it.
I pulled my car around and the manager insisted the dresser absolutely would not fit. People tend to underestimate my Prius so I told him that she's bigger than she looks. I mentioned that I just moved to town and didn't know anybody with a truck. So it was the Prius or nothing. He was unmoved and wouldn't even try to see if it would fit. I wasn't as assertive as I should have been and went home in despair. Sure, he said he would put a sold sticker on it and give me through Saturday to pay for it and haul it away, but I was completely serious when I said that there was no way I could get a truck.
I spent another evening agonizing. I wondered if it was just dresser infatuation, not love. I realized she probably wouldn't fit in my living room, where I had originally planned to put her, and tried to decide if I was ready to get rid of the dresser in my bedroom. I wondered how I would find a truck, knowing only a grand total of about four people in town.
I was determined to make this work. It was love, not infatuation. I would bring home my beauty and sell my other dresser. And I would fit her in my Prius, by golly! I put on my assertive, grown-up face and marched over to the store. Turns out, I didn't even have to worry about the pessimistic manager. The loading guys didn't so much as bat an eye when I said which dresser was mine and pulled my car around. The hatch didn't close but the dresser did fit, with room to spare. I was terrified the entire drive home but it was only a few miles and we made it intact. My bestie helped me haul the beauty up the stairs and I was blissfully happy.
Now that you've read my harrowing tale, here she is in the middle of my living room. I cleaned her up but haven't had a chance to move her into the bedroom yet.