Couch Karma

Gavin:  The house we've rented was built and furnished as a holiday rental. Which means the owners optimized for making it look pretty in advertisements.

All of the furniture is sturdy, attractive, and incredibly uncomfortable.  It's made out of hemp or something, with stray bristly fibers all over ready to scratch a bare arm or leg.  Some of it, including the couch, came with thin purple foam cushions.

The house is great.  The furniture... not so much.

So yesterday at the beach we met Tony (the Pool Guy; it says so on his truck) and his son Chelsea (who are in Brisbane tonight to watch the big rubgy match: Queensland versus New South Wales, but that's not actually relevant to this story, except that the game is just about to start and we don't have Tivo so I'm going to try to finish this up right quick).  And Tony mentions that one of our neighbors asked him this morning if he wanted to buy their couch.

Excited at the prospect of a couch that we could sit on for more than ten minutes at a time, I wandered up the street and got to Roz and John's house moments before the truck from Tully Secondhand arrived to.  First-come, first-served, and I didn't bother to dicker on price.  So now we're the proud owners of a huge, garish, comfortable couch.

Funny thing is, the purple and orange actually match the walls.  I felt kinda bad for the Tully Secondhand lady, but we'll probably be selling her this couch in December before we leave.