October 19: The Scholastic Couch

When I first moved away to college, the most important piece of furniture was the top or bottom bunk that was provided in my three-person room. I didn't care about armchairs, desk chairs, armoires or TV stands. All of the furniture I needed for my freshman year was taken care of. Even if I wanted something else, there wasn't room for it.

The furniture was again provided for my sophomore year, but because I was hired as a Resident Advisor, my bed, dresser, and desk were alone in the same size room I shared with two other students the previous year. Suffice it to say, I had some extra space. I had room to bring in my brand new 20-inch TV, my new simulated surround sound system, my Nintendo 64 and games, and my collection of DVDs. I had all the pieces for the ultimate bachelor's pad; except the couch.

On a cold October evening, a friend from my crew team drove my then-girlfriend and me in his El Camino to a house we found in the classifieds. The ad had mentioned a yard sell that was held the day before. One of the items being sold? A pullaway couch! We called the lady the night of the sale and discovered the couch was still available for the rock-bottom price of ten dollars. Because I was on a limited budget, the price was a bit steep, but it was a pullaway; plus the seller threw in a free set of old, zebra-print sheets!

After paying the kind lady, my friend and I loaded the back of the El Camino with my new prized possession before driving back to the residence halls where we humped the thing up three elevator-less flights of stairs. We were exhausted, but it was worth it! I had a couch of my own. It smelled foul and looked worse with the faded sheets "protecting" me from the unknown substances on the upholstery.

I never took advantage of the pullaway feature, but the couch didn't last very long anyway. A friend of mine sold me her futon in the latter months of the school year, and because it didn't look terrible or smell awful, I was quick to jump at the deal. My seating options had just improved ten fold.

What is it about being in college that makes everyone desperate to get a couch? Everyone in school wants one thing and one thing only: The oldest, most vile loveseat sofa available. They get old couches that parents don't want. They get them from their grandparents' basements. They get them from yard sales and thrift stores. Students will see an old couch outside someone's house in the pouring rain and honestly consider picking it up for their room. They turn beds into lofts and move provided desks and dressers beneath just to make room for the big, moth-infested sofas. It's hard enough to walk through a college dorm room without extra furniture, but this fascination with couches makes it virtually impossible.

And then they just throw them away! After spending, sometimes, months rearranging rooms and finding the perfect, cheapest solution to their love seat obsessions students don't even try to get anything in return for their findings. Dumpsters are literally full of used, used sofas at the end of each semester. It doesn't matter if the thing had been in the family for a hundred years. No one wants to move it. School's over!

My futon was the last collegiate couch I owned. It made it through my sophomore, junior, and senior years before I pawned it off on someone else, but it was good to me. Although I would never furnish my house with the likes of it, it sure made those nights with Shrek more enjoyable. It was no ten-dollar filth fest, but it was the perfect couch for college. Every college kid would be and should have been jealous of my beloved, scholastic futon.