Table in the Woods

We really and truly wanted to legally dispose of our dining room table. A few bites on craigslist, lukewarm interest from a consignment shop, but still the table sat in our apartment, filling most of the living area with its hugeness and making it impossible to complete our move because we don't know how we'll lay out the room.

Marty always liked this table. Even after a toilet overflowed above it and covered the top with water for hours, Marty nursed it back to health with a rag and lemon oil. I never liked the table and it hated me. When we moved to Rhode Island, we had to get a table because our shipment of household goods wouldn't arrive for a month. We went to a nearby furniture store, looked around for an hour and settled for the dining set that has been giving me so much agita. Several weeks after we purchased it, I went to sit on one of the commodious and sturdy-looking chairs only to have it collapse. I fell to the floor, unharmed and thankful it hadn't been a guest who'd taken the tumble.

We moved the set to our first New York City apartment where it took up space but seemed to work with the room's layout. When we moved to our current apartment, we realized it didn't fit very well. We saw a perfect drop-leaf table with four chairs one night at a thrift shop but when I returned the next day it was marked sold. I spent a lot of time in thrift stores the next few weeks looking for the perfect answer to the dining table blues. Antique stores would set me back $4000. Thrift stores carried furniture from the 60's paid for with S&H green stamps--remember those?

There is a store in Jeffersonville that has odd orange chairs around a table in the entryway. They are quite ugly but good conversation starters. They look like Gumby. They look like something on a Star Trek set. They will never sell but they'll sell everything else in the store because these bizarre chairs draw people in and start conversations. It was in this shop that I found my table. It was small, narrow and dark, a "harvest" table which would be more apropos in our farmhouse than our apartment. I put a deposit on it and brought Marty back the next day to see it. He was underwhelmed. We couldn't take this table until we removed the other one, so I spent the next week scouring shops in New York for similar ones, perhaps with "matching" chairs.

Last week, Marty took the legs off the table, and on Friday loaded it on the roof of our car. Two blankets and a tangle of bungee cords seemed to secure the table top. We discovered that driving faster than 50 miles per hour was a no-no. The trip took a little longer than usual due to the slow speed and stopping a few times to check on slippage. We were about 20 minutes from our house when it happened.

Words can’t do this justice. A car came to an abrupt stop in front of ours. Marty hit the brakes and the sound of moving furniture and then the sight of it flying off the roof and crashing on the road was jaw-dropping. The car in front escaped damage. I wonder if the driver even saw it. Marty and Mark jumped out to check the mangled table. The aprons were cracked, although the top looked okay. Our car had a few scratches and a windshield wiper looked funny, much like a broken arm. The table was now worthless unless you’re a fabulous carpenter. Marty, looking helpless, asked what he should do. I told him to chuck it into the woods along with the legs. We can’t do that. Oh yes we can.

The deed done, Marty and Mark climbed back into the car and we drove away. I burst out laughing. This was one of the funniest things I’d ever seen. Marty was less sanguine. We’d forgotten to toss the nuts and bolts to attach the legs, but it seemed like a moot point.

We’re still going to try to sell the chairs, which are huge. We’re going to have a yard sale in Jeffersonville this summer. We’ll sell them for a song, but first we have to safely transport them to the country. In the meantime, we went to the shop where our new table awaited. It is small, kind of chunky and 150 years old. A maximum of four people can sit at this table, uncomfortably. Marty and I, however, will be comfy and cozy. Last night, we had dinner with Harry and there was plenty of room.

Beware of flying tables and other hazardous objects, especially if you're headed to the Catskills and driving anywhere near our Subaru.