I just put up an ad on craigslist for my futon. I spent, like, almost an hour on it, and now I want to share it with the world. Ok, here it is.
This futon bends two ways so that you can impress the ladies
I’m selling a futon that bends in two different directions. This will help you impress the ladies. Don’t believe me? Here’s how it will go down:
The ladies will be in your apartment, looking cautiously at your collection of 311 posters and old wooden stools that you found in thrift stores and say that you’ll restore someday. The stools are piled up in haphazardly in the foyer, and the weight of the unfinished, cracking wood is so great that it occasionally crushes one of the stools on the bottom of the pile, making an explosive crushing sound and sending daggers of splintering wood into the coat room and antechamber. You used to have a dog that you used to impress the ladies, but he got squished last June in a chair collapse. Right now, the ladies aren’t looking very impressed.
“So…” you ask the ladies nervously, desperately hoping to strike up a conversation in which you can impress them, “Do you come here often?”
“To your apartment? No! And I don’t think I’ll ever come here again!” say the ladies, scowling ferociously and looking around for their coat so they can get out of here and go forget about you while having a frozen yogurt sunday at Pinkberry. The coat rack is located behind your stool pile, so you have a few minutes before they find it.
While the ladies are angrily stomping away, they pass by your bedroom. Looking in, they see the futon standing stoically in your sparse interior, a tropical island in a sea of magic hat empties and stool restoration magazines.
“Hey!” the ladies will say, “Does your bed fold up into a sofa? That’s really fascinating”
The ladies will turn towards you. Their eyes are now filled with warmth and optimism. “You know,” the ladies will confide in you, tentatively biting their lower lips as they confide their deepest aspirations, “I always wanted to be a sculptor but I’m afraid that nobody will like my stuff”
You give the ladies a comforting, understanding smile. “I feel your pain. It’s really terrifying to just put yourself out there like that. So exposed and bare. One thing I’ve learned from my stool restoration hobby is–”
The ladies are leaning toward you, hanging on your every word, but they interrupt, “Come sit on the futon with me and tell me all about it. Maybe we can convert it into a couch together”
You’re a little upset at being cut off while talking about your stool work, but you suppress it.
“Actually,” you tell the ladies, “Something you may not know about this futon is that it bends in two directions. It could fold one way and become a couch, or it could fold the other way and become a bed with a variable inclined head-section so we can lie on it and admire the view out my window of the I-93 interchange.
“Oh god!” the ladies shout, “You must take me now!”
The ladies shuck off all their clothes and adjust the futon so it’s a bed with a slightly elevated headboard. They grab you by your tie and pull you over them on the futon. You’re still a little upset about the stool interruption, and you also don’t like it when other people touch your tie(this whole story that goes back to some nasty bullies in middle school), but it looks like you’re getting lucky tonight, so it all balances out.
During your frenzied lovemaking, other ladies, attracted by the low-frequency futon vibrations, will converge on your apartment and force their way inside to join in the fun, shattering windows and beating down doors. Congratulations–you’re the one man in a mostly female orgy.
The good news is that the futon can take it. It’s well built by professional Swedish welders, and it’s rated to hold twenty-two ladies for up to thirty minutes.
The futon is an classy, muted green on a matte silver frame. Full-sized mattress. It’s in quite good condition. I’m selling it for $100, and you can pick it up today from my home in Central Square. As a bonus, I’ll write you a short story to help you assimilate into double-futon culture, but I’ll have to ask you a couple questions, first.
No, I won’t take pictures of it for you. I’m a busy man.