Personally, I enjoy going places and shelling out hundreds of dollars to be disappointed too. Most people its the gym, the plastic surgeon, or dating. For me? Its the furniture store.
I hate futons. These little half blood muggles try to sell themselves as sensible alternatives when for whatever reason you’re not sure if you need a bed or a couch. If only you could have had this degree of decisiveness when picking out your wardrobe. Now both you and your living room have more in common with potatoes than just both having eyes that can’t see.
Tracks though, to go with the asses that wont be able to feel either, cause look.
You either get a giant “mattress” full of whatever left over filling they can find from the slaughter floor of the Care Bear slaughter house, or you get some penitentiary thin pad that gives your guests a tailbone fracture by the end of the night from a frame wedgie. Maybe I had you all wrong, you’re not just an interior designers bad trip, you’re Jigsaw with a penchant for cotton fiber... and dust mites.
Because how do you even clean these amorphous blobs of unsanitary disappointment? Sure, the manuals say you gotta wash the cover and beat them, but how? By the time you remember, they’re already three times heavier than when you got them. Now they’re overflowing with Burning Man levels of sweat, dead skin, parasites, and whatever bodily fluids your guests decided to leave behind. I mean hell since you clearly don’t care about them, why should they return the favor?
You can’t even put on a fitted sheet!
Okay, granted. I think we can all agree that fitted sheets are a nightmare. When you need to watch a YouTube tutorial or carve a summoning circle in the basement floor to access the ancient wisdom necessary to properly fold linens, I think that’s a step too far. Especially when you’re just going to bundle the thing up and shove it somewhere till you change the sheets next year. But I digress. They expect you to buy a “Futon cover” That you got to zip closed, with the tiniest, pettiest zipper.
See? They aren’t even pretending anymore, they know how disgusting futon mattresses are. Having you get a mattress condom instead of a marginally less stupid looking fitted sheet. We aren’t in college anymore. Practicing “safe sleeping practices” shouldn’t be a necessary phrase in any language. Plus it doesn’t cover the liability claim factories that those frames are.
Whether wood, metal, or whatever composite late stage capitalistic bullshit material they’re built with, they seemingly have one goal in mind: Wanna swap from shitty couch to shitty bed? prepare to enter the textile mills of the 1800s, cause they’re coming for your soft defenseless fingers!
If you wanted pain, just slam your hand in the car door a few dozen times. Cause it just seems like you want to indulge your own self loathing but with extra steps. You can have poor taste, you can dress like a burlap sack with too high tube socks, but please don’t be a bad host. You’re better than that.
I can accept a day bed, couch, lounger, chaise, bean bags, or put an actual queen size bed in your living room, hell put two. Make it an actual wall to wall “bedroom.” That would still look better than having that bad decision chimera sitting front and center, broadcasting to the world that you don’t like grilled cheese sandwiches or something equally monstrous.
Love yourself for once.
-RC