The Bed From Hell  

spinmedown 49M
1607 posts
9/19/2005 7:15 pm

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

The Bed From Hell

After she left the last time, she called to let me know she made it home safely. During this call we agreed that I would come over Sunday since we both had today off. Mixed feelings on my part- everything from trepidation to terror with just enough curiosity and maybe hope mixed in to keep me from calling it off.


Okay, our tastes in furniture are very different.

I would describe my taste as Danish Modern with some 50's Retro thrown in for fun.

She describes her taste as Primitive, Shabby Chic with some broken ceramics thrown in for fun. I would describe her taste as, "Are you sure this thing is going to support my weight without collapsing, Chickie?"

So I get there, and we are walking around holding hands and admiring her decorating skills. It really looks nice, and the movers didn't even lose the can of pinto beans that props up the front, left corner of the loveseat. I'm impressed.

When we look into the bedroom, I notice that THE BED FROM HELL has been resurrected in my absense.

A little history lesson on TBFH:

It is an old 4-poster that she inheritted from her mother's estate. I understand the sentimentality; but it is a little, shall I say, creepy to me.

They did not build everything better in the good-old-days! It is as rickety as an old screendoor.

It is a double, and I am 6'-2". The makers thoughtfully placed a bar in just the right spot to ensure that I will never stretch out comfortably on their creation.

The top of the mattress is about 3'-6" off the floor.

I slept on a futon on the floor for 10 years and loved it. When I turned 30, I decided to grow up and get some furniture. I went out and bought the firmest, queen size mattress I could find; and then I brought it home and threw the futon on top of it. Oh so very comfortable. As I grew accustomed to that, I also went shopping for a frame.

Lessons for men shopping for a bed frame:

1. All single men seen in a furniture store are assumed to be gay. Get over it.
2. Dress nice enough that the security guards wont be inclined to follow you around, but not so nice that the sales people will mob you.
3. Find a frame you like and inspect it while casually checking out your surroundings to make sure no one is watching you.
4. When you are sure that no one will see you, grab the foot board in an iron grip and yank it back and forth as hard and fast as you can. If it moves, rattles or squeeks, repeat step #3. If it doesn't, then repeat step #4 on the head board.
5. If it passes all the above tests, buy it and try to refrain from flirting with the salesman in the hopes that he will drop the price. You might get more than you bargained for.

Late one night (about midnight, and my gf was already asleep), I thought I would be cool and take a short-cut over the foot board into bed. I backed up until the top bar was against my lower back, put both hands on the bar and lifted my butt up onto the bar. At about my highest elevation off the floor, and as I began to move back towards the mattress, I heard a loud CRACK. All sorts of thoughts go through one's mind when things like this happen, and the one I remember best was, "OH SHIT!" The foot board had completly seperated from the frame, and I was rapidly arcing my way towards the hardwoods genitals first in the dark as the box spring hit the floor and the mattress containing my now awake gf slid towards me. Lets just say that we ended up in a pile on the floor in the dark and my "gennies" were on the bottom of the pile. Just what I needed when I had to be at work in 6 hours. After a little work, the mattress was completely on the floor, the bed was dismantelled, and I was trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in that didn't put any pressure on my newly sensitized areas. No sex that night.

Now you are up to speed on TBFH.

So I winced when I saw my old nemesis and realized that I could take my chances on it or the pinto-bean-can-loveseat as places to sleep. I was also a little peaved that not only did she still have it, but she had had it repaired. Sentementality aside, it aint worth burnin'.

We had a nice evening. It was time for bed and all its mixed excitement and dread. She's in bed before I got there. I skirted furtively around the cursed footboard in the dark. I got undressed and backed my butt up to the mattress so I could hoist myself up with my hands on the mattress. At about my highest elevation off the floor, and as I began to move back towards the mattress, I heard three loud BANGS as three slats hit the floor. All sorts of thoughts go through one's mind when things like this happen, and the one I remember best was, "OH SHIT, NOT AGAIN!" But the mattress stayed put and I lowered myself to the floor and put my clothes back on in the dark and bit my tongue.

"What happened?", she asked, and I lost it!
"The damn bed's trying to kill me again. I told you it was a rickety, old piece of crap, and here it is trying to scare the hell outa me in the dark again!", I replied louder than I probably should have.
"But I love 4-poster beds, and it suits the style of the house so well", she replies all innocently.
"This house was built in the 20's, and 4-poster beds were built so people could hang curtains around the bed to keep out drafts in drafty old castles with no central heat, and the ceiling is too low in this house, and the damn bed is trying to kill me again, and I didn't even have any clothes on to defend myself, and I told you it was a rickety, old piece of crap,and...", I couldn't help it.
"Well you don't have to be so mean about it", again with the innocence.
"Let's just fix it. Where's the light switch?", I resigned myself.

So we get the slats back in place. All seven of them, and they are all about 3/4" too short, and only on the side rails by a 1/2" margin on both sides, and both the foot board and the head board are crackity-squeeking while we do this.

I'm thinking, "Great! Now I gotta perform on this damn thing, 'cause I know it aint gonna happen on the loveseat, 'cause that damn pinto bean can will just slide across the hardwoods and out from under it, and then I'm gonna chip a tooth on the shabby chic coffee table in the dark".

Somehow the rest of the night went very smoothly and cautiously with lots and lots of ominous crackity-squeekings and squeekity-crackings; and I was always trying to make sure of where my landing site would be should the worst happen, but somehow we still enjoyed it and laughed about it in the end and were safe and satisfied.

I gotta find a way to get rid of TBFH.

Most people are other people... FUCKING CHARACTER LIMIT!!! ~Oscar Wilde

ThumbChickStool 33F

9/19/2005 9:07 pm

May I recommend having some furniture movers coming in and taking it while she's at work? And maybe having yours delivered there in lieu of TBFH? Or a brand new bed instead of just yours?

spinmedown 49M
3626 posts
9/20/2005 2:09 pm

Hey native2LV, my thoughts exactly. I've contemplated just allowing it to wander out to the curb unsupervised on trash day many times. I might have allowed this except for the sentimentality factor. It was, after all, her mother's bed. This is a situation which calls for subtlety and cunning if I'm to keep my ass outa the sling.
Thanks for stopping by; and if you come up with something with a little more deniability, please let me know.

Most people are other people... FUCKING CHARACTER LIMIT!!! ~Oscar Wilde

MisterPriapus 57M
6980 posts
11/23/2005 3:38 pm


Thanx for the point to this Post, tho I'm VERY disappointed... where the fook's the pizza! Bad enough the title confused me... what with there being several beds in the narrative.

Perhaps a horrible indoors chainsaw mishap would do the trick? Then she could get a futon, and if she still misses the 4-poster look, get her some kiddie goal posts to put a it's head and foot.



Been a while since they last let me out into polite society. Resurfacing, catching a breath, & catching up.

And while I got my Broad-Brimmed Pimping Hat on, could I cajole all of y'all to Comment on, Alone In A Cloud? It's probably the best thing that I've written!



spinmedown 49M
3626 posts
12/25/2005 7:24 am

Mr.P This was an early titleage experiment, and not a very good one. And then it just turned into a rambling rant from there.

I was trying to figure out a controlled burn scenario, but somehow I think the chainsaw would make for an easier explanation.

LMAO @ Score! Nothing wrong with a little playful competition.

Most people are other people... FUCKING CHARACTER LIMIT!!! ~Oscar Wilde

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