- Help friends move into new condo. For your hard work, receive
gift of IKEA computer desk and microwave they don't need anymore.
When desk parts are dropped off at your bachelor apartment, be careful
not to ask any questions whatsoever concerning proper assembly and
function. Following the move, drink several beers on an empty stomach,
say goodbye politely, and take subway home. Pick up more beer.
Enjoy several beers. Wait for surge of booze-fueled confidence to
flow through you. Realize with sudden clarity that you could snap
together that tiny little computer desk right now if you wanted
to. Listen to small, nagging voice of reason in the back of your
mind. This voice will remind you, in a soothing, reassuring tone,
that assembling a large metal desk full of sharp jagged parts while
half-potted is unwise.
Ignore this voice.
- Clear area in your small bachelor apartment in which to assemble
your IKEA computer desk frame. Do not under any circumstances pick
an area remotely close to the area where the desk will go once assembled.
Pick an area on the other side of the room; open another beer and
congratulate yourself for having the hair to get this job done tonight.
You are a real man, friend. Hmm, these beers are going quickly.
- Realize just how heavy solid steel desk frames can be. Make note
of how small desk looked in friends' sprawling two-bedroom apartment,
and conversely, how it takes up fully two-thirds of your cramped
bachelor apartment (read: room with sink and window). Make final
realization that there don't seem to be any screws with which to
adhere the solid steel desk parts to each other.
- Commence fruitless search. Phone friend in desperation some half
an hour later, and discover the screws to be in the microwave. Celebrate
your discovery with drink, to keep morale high in the face of adversity.
- Screw on first of two heavy wooden slats to frame and attempt
to lift desk. Note both its surprising heaviness and your weak,
straining arms. Decide sensibly that you should move desk frame
to its intended spot in bachelor apartment before attaching any
more preposterously heavy metal slats to it. Begin to clear area
on other side of room where current computer desk resides, disconnecting
the seven thousand wires and plugs that power your computer. Discover
with sadness that the intended area will not be nearly big enough
to accommodate new desk.
- Move bed. Move dresser. Remove all books from bookshelf. Move
bookshelf. Put books back in again. Get extremely cross. Lift old
computer desk out of area where new computer desk will go. While
holding old desk, realize the area in which you'd intended to put
it is now filled with a bed, a dresser and a bookshelf.
Savvy improvisation saves the day. Slide old computer desk into
hallway, directly in the path of bathroom door. This is a good idea,
because you've been drinking beer all night, and therefore will
have no need to go to the bathroom.
Steel yourself mentally and spiritually to the task of moving the
computer desk across the room. Accomplish this through further drink
and an assortment of quality television programming.
A full two hours after deciding to undertake this (now mammoth and
aggravating) assembly, finally attempt to move computer desk to
its intended spot. Note its immense heaviness due to the metal and
wood slat you have already screwed to it.
Unscrew wooden slat so as to lift it better, undoing the one accomplishment
you've successfully made in the past 120 minutes.
- With slat removed from frame, attempt to move desk again. Note
large obstructions in path, like end table and couch. Toy briefly
with idea of moving these items of furniture. Ignore idea on grounds
that a) doing this will mean you'll have moved every item of furniture
in your home, b) the place where you'd put these items already have
items there, and c) you've wasted enough time with this stupid project
already. Come to decision that large metal desk is going to other
end of room in the straightest line possible. If your other furniture
doesn't have the sense to get out of the way, that's their look-out.
Remember to lift with your back and be very drunk (see 2:
Assembling the Frame for proper lifting technique).
While navigating painfully heavy computer desk frame over the first
of many obstacles, knock over beer mug on end table, scattering
glass shards all over walkway and into the weaving of your throw
rug. Put down desk and spend twenty minutes thoroughly brooming
up glass shards. Place these in a garbage bag. Pick up desk again.
Knock over several other things.
This step is essential: step directly on the garbage bag with all
the glass shards on it.
- Remove wads of paper towel from bottom of foot when bleeding has
stopped. Clean up the blood stains on floor that lead out the hallway
and to the bathroom, where the first aid was. Note ruefully the
blood stains going up and over the old desk directly in front of
the bathroom door.
- Curse, if you want to. It will make you feel better. Realize three
hours have now passed.
Admit temporary defeat. Decide to just check a little email and
surf the net a bit, then worry about all this tomorrow. Realize
you can't get on your computer until the stupid IKEA computer desk
is properly assembled.
Decide to just get this whole hellish process over with. Crawl over
old computer desk to go to the bathroom. Repeat this many times
throughout night, as you get progressively less coordinated.
- Prepare to screw the final, large slat to the frame: the desk
part, a cumbersome metal and wood board that all your stuff will
actually rest upon, like a keyboard and mouse and such. One might
pause at this point, and suspect this is actually a two man job:
one man to hold the excruciatingly heavy metal and wood slat in
place while another screws it to the frame. In burst of creativity,
make your second man the upended microwave also given to you.
- With upended microwave holding immensely heavy slat part up, spend
a full two hours trying to get one screw into the two interconnected
pieces. Once the screw goes through the hole it must come out the
other side and enter the slat. Since you cannot actually see the
hole in the metal and wood part (it's being held against the frame,
remember), you must repeat this process an estimated six hundred
thousand times in a near-infinite number of combinations. Finally,
all four of the stupid screws are through the stupid holes and the
stupid goddamn IKEA computer desk is installed.
Your apartment at this point should be a shambles of broken glass
and gore, with a wake of destruction from the blast radius of the
desk. Go to bed, the desk assembled. Have uneasy dreams.