There we were, The Old Man and I, minding our own business, abiding by our recently implemented austerity measures in a local thrift store, when suddenly this happens:
It reminded me of that one time a toilet seat and the eighties adopted their cousin, this seat cushion.
BUT. Somehow I was drawn to this chair. I felt compelled to know more about this chair – to learn her story – to know what went wrong… and I found that underneath it all, she had a heart of brass.
And the body of a hottie.
Is it inappropriate to discuss lady-boners in a blog? Let’s assume it is, and move on.
To find out who was responsible for this amazingness, I inspected my new infatuation and discovered:
SHE’S ITALIAN! ONE MILLION EXTRA POINTS!
Upon a google, I found that a set of 4 vintage Cidue chairs on a European website sold for 500 euros!!! (Roughly 1000 dollars.) I buy for 20 dollars per chair?!?!
ONE TRILLION EXTRA POINTS!
Problem: The Old Man was completely unimpressed. Disgusted. Distraught by my enthusiasm. Unconvinced that I was in fact not joking.
But, as you might have already guessed, the poor bastard despite himself and his better judgement eventually said, “I cannot believe this.” And we left that store a few chairs richer.
For at least two days, he eyed the one chair suspiciously, muttering curses under his breath at it. Only one chair had been allowed upstairs. But slowly, slowly, he has relented. Three chairs now live in the apartment. The Old Man still glares at them if they step out of line, but he now admits that he hates them only a little.
File this under “Awesome Sauce”.