I about lost my religion tonight putting together cheapo stools from IKEA to go with my new-ish bistro table… purchased in an effort to have an actual setting at which to eat or read or drink; an attempt to make my unconventional city-living abode more like, dare I say, a home.
Screw that. Or not, as the case may be.
In this corner = Pance. In the other corner = Allen Wrench, IKEA’s answer to an entire toolbox.
I think I lost. Or rather, the person who joins me at my new Frenchy restaurant table-for-two and chooses the stool missing a couple, um, things will have lost.
I need a drink. Waiter?