In my life, I've loved couches more

When I was growing up, we had ample space in our house for me to have a conventional room, but I choose to sleep on a makeshift sectional couch in the basement. The basement had an escape hatch which made sleeping on something that would separate such that most of your body was sagging in between sections, totally worth it because I could walk out the back door whenever I heard my dad snoozing in his favorite chair upstairs. The next time that my life and happiness were dependent on a couch was when I worked at the drop zone in Northhampton MA. There was a group of older skydivers that would come out for the weekend and set up shop with their vans, tents, moonshine and other unmentionables. At night, we'd have massive bonfires and from time to time, someone would haul out an old used couch that was ready to make it into the spirit world. Simeralli, the leader of the pack (which was self identified as "the ghetto") , would place the couch on the tinder, sit on the couch, start the fire and see how long he could stay on the blazing saddle. I joined him once, but he outlasted me by minutes! It may be from these fond memories that lead me to the level of excitement regarding my new couch, or maybe I'm just couchophilic. Either way. I'm thrilled to have a real piece of furniture that we bought new. I feel like such a grown up. Hopefully I'll be around to see it old and dilapidated. I'll outlast anyone sitting in that bonfire!