The person who lived in our apartment before us was odd.
As in, owned a silk scarf with the weirdly revered band The Doors printed on it, odd.
And put Band-Aids over all of the door’s keyholes, odd.
He also abandoned several pieces of furniture.
Odd, but beneficial.
While we had the entertainment center destroyed, because that should be the fate of all entertainment centers and may well become a cause I will champion, we kept the dining room table.
It’s an ugly beast, but we have swathed it with a tablecloth and no one is the wiser.
Unfortunately, the equally dismal chairs he left us with could not be as easily disguised.
For some reason there were only three, for starters. I can only assume he used one to stoke the fire he apparently started in the middle of the living room carpet, judging from the odd coloration there, and saved the rest for company … namely the hookers he entertained (NOT KIDDING. HAVE BEEN TOLD STORIES.) Hopefully Ms. Hooker did not sit on the especially wiggly one, because she and her tassles would have been swiftly deposited onto the floor.
During our SUCCESSFUL garage sale-ing weekend, we pounced on four sturdy dining chairs. Unfortunately the upholstery was atrocious …
So we decided to cover them with these (found at another garage sale) …
A little avant garde, you may interject, but I’m cheap and a farmer’s daughter. hee haw.
So after a few mishaps with the staple gun (my family place setting still includes a baby fork but they hand over the staple gun … there’s a message there) …
We have arrived at these!
Oh, and don’t sit on them if you come over … re-affixing is a bit out of my league too.