When something should be easy, it often times isn’t

Published 12:00 am Tuesday, April 2, 2002

&uot;&t;I&gtThere is nothing so simple that it cannot be made difficult.

Tuesday, April 02, 2002

&uot;There is nothing so simple that it cannot be made difficult.&uot; – Merle P. Martin in &uot;The Instant Analyst,&uot; Journal of Systems Management, 1975

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It’s funny just how complicated that which should be simple can become.

About six years ago, my wife (then my girlfriend) bought a loveseat at a garage sale. Though functional, even then it had seen better days. Every time we moved it for vacuuming, a loose caster wheel would fall out. Not being experienced with furniture repair, we would always just pop it back into place.

Six years later, the loveseat was starting to look a little worn. We decided it was time to buy a new one, maybe even a couch. After much browsing, we found something we liked at a furniture outlet store in Medford. It was a wooden futon, which was surprisingly the most comfortable of all the furniture we tried. The bonus was that we would be able to fold it out into a bed for whenever we had overnight guests.

We told the associate that we were interested in buying the futon, and asked her if they could deliver it to Albert Lea. She said they could, for a nominal charge. Not owning a vehicle large enough to transport it ourselves, that was fine with us. It seemed simpler than trying to borrow a truck. We then found out that the futon would arrive as an unassembled kit, but that they could assemble it for us for another $30. We decided we would do that part ourselves. How difficult could it be?

We had hoped to have the futon delivered that week, but were informed that they were unable to sell the display model, and that our futon would have to be ordered from a factory in Sioux Falls, S.D., which would add about a week to the delivery time. Since we weren’t particularly in a hurry, that was no big deal. We weren’t expecting company anytime soon, anyway.

We told the associate that the following Tuesday afternoon would probably work best for us, since I would be home. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. Because of the large amount of deliveries they had to make, customers couldn’t pick the time of day most convenient for them. The best she could do was to arrange for the delivery guys to call us with an estimated time frame 24-48 hours ahead of time, so that we could arrange for someone to be home.

About a week later, I received a call from the factory. They told me they would be at my house on Tuesday, sometime between 8 and 11 a.m. My mother doesn’t work on Tuesdays at all, so she offered to wait at our house for the futon while my wife and I were both at work. We both leave early in the morning, so on Monday night I dropped off my house key, so she could let herself in.

Tuesday morning when my wife’s carpool arrived, I kissed her goodbye and wished her a good day. I watched them drive away, then went to get the car out of the garage so I could drive to work. When I tried to unlock the door, I remembered that I no longer had the key. It took a moment to sink in that I was apparently locked out of both the house and the garage. I had about 15 minutes to walk two miles to work. Ironically, in grade school I had always wondered when I’d ever need to run a mile in eight minutes.

Luckily, I live only a few blocks from a convenience store, so I was able to walk there to call the Tribune and explain that I would be slightly late due to an unfortunate series of events. Fortunately, I was able to get a ride from one of my co-workers. The furniture was delivered while I was at work, so my mom was able to come and pick me up and give me my key so I could get back in my house. All that was left was to put it together, which is another story entirely. Suffice to say that next time I’ll pay the extra $30.

Dustin Petersen is an Albert Lea resident. His column appears Tuesdays.