Wednesday, March 18, 2009

A table only a mother could love

Two days ago I sold this table to a couple that responded to my craigslist ad. I had it listed for a few weeks. First at $100, then after a week of no interested buyers $75. So, when I finally got a call I was a bit relieved. But more than relieved, I was sad.

This table was a special piece of furniture. It was the first piece of furniture I acquired while on my own. A classmate my second semester of school gave it to me. Her name was Shelia - a cute little lady probably in her late 50s early 60s. Shelia and I became pretty good girlfriends. She told me all about her life and I told her all about my roommate's and my wild and crazy apartment adventures. I told her about our fine furnishing, which consisted of a cardboard box and a tent in our front room in order to use up some of our space. After hearing all my stories I think she was torn between three distinct feelings toward me (1) I think I reminded her of her youth (2) I'm sure she felt sorry for my lack of well everything and (3) I'm fairly certain she thought I was crazy. The feeling sorry for me part won. She offered to give me, for free, a dining set that her sister and husband were getting rid of. I promptly went over to her house to see the table. And it was truly a treasure.

What stood before me was a 1970s brown-tinted glass-top table with four beige leather chairs. And the fixtures were light-stained wood and brass tubing. The glass was cut in an octagon, giving any room a little geometric flair!

I loved this table. This table moved with me to all of my apartments thereafter - my studio; the boyfriend's and my loft and then the house. It wasn't always being used; it was often in storage. But I could never get rid of it. We moved it from the garage into the house for our Halloween pumpkin carving party last year. And we never moved it back. Instead we gave it a semi-permanent home in the kitchen even though we already had a nice kitchen table. And when anyone came over instead of sitting at our nice table, everyone congregated around the 1970s table.

Well, I decided to sell my little vintage table. The boyfriend and I are moving soon, and most likely we will be moving into storage. So we don't want to have to move, store and then move again anything we aren't going to end up using. But I was determined to find the perfect owner for this table. I wanted to find some cute person who loves vintage items. And who would find this table just as special as I found it. Is that too much to ask? I just wanted this table - that has really accompanied me through my adult life - to have a good home and good owner that would appreciate all its 1970s flair!

Said person was not found. I'm sure the table has a good home and fine owners now, but I'm sad that the perfect person didn't come-a-callin'. I'm sad that I totally sold out and sold my table for a measly 65 bucks. But the good news is that I sold the table, and I think I sold the table to a couple that needs a table. Maybe the love and appreciation for that fine piece of furniture will come in time.

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