Couched in Terror

by Nick

So I went up to Philly to see my brother graduate from medical school. Since I was up there, he wanted me to help him move a sofa into his apartment. I asked if we were going to carry it through the street, a little unsure of this possibility. "Don't worry" he said. "It's light, and not too far." Yeah, if I was Thor. This thing had to weigh like 200 pounds or something. After hauling it into an elevator and down to the lobby, we had to engage the doorman in a duel of wits to get him to open the door for us. Then we hauled it the 20 miles to his new apartment. At various points, we had to stop and sleep for the evening. My arm probably fell off two or three times. Finally we get to his new apartment and haul it into the elevator. At this point, the sofa decides that it doesn't like its new surroundings and starts spitting out splinters and staples at me. Beaten, bruised, and near death, I just manage to get the sofa into his apartment. I promptly make use of his new status as "doctor" to keep me from dying on the spot.