The Importance of Bedding

Sleeping in it was heavenly. I slept so well in that thing, it was hard to get out of bed in the mornings. I had spent my entire life on one of three old single beds, and I just assumed that I would sleep on one of those beds until I moved out. It never occurred to me that I would ever get a new bed.

I moved out in 1992 when I went to university. I was sleeping in some crappy futon. But when it was time to go back to Brockville, it was sweet bliss in the bed once more. Crappy futon most of the time, and blissful sleep whenever I made it back to my parent's place. I either couldn't afford a bed or I couldn't fit one into my room, so I slept on that damn futon for the greater part of NINE YEARS.

Finally, I got sick of it, and got my Brockville bed to Montreal. It was good for a while, but the years had really taken their toll on that thing. I have been sleeping on it nightly for three years now, but something was nagging at me.

When Rose moved into her apartment last September, she only had a crappy futon to sleep on. Two months ago it became unbearable. Since I owed her some money anyway ($2000 which I am proud to say I paid three weeks ago!), I bought her a new bed. Queen size. Comfortable. Her moods and physical disposition changed overnight. Less back pain means a better mood.

Last fall my mother won a queen size bed. Don't ask me how, I didn't bother to ask her. I did ask her if she needed the thing. She obviously didn't, so she said that she could have it as long as I could get the thing to Montreal. That presented challenges. No one I know has the wherewithal to transport a queen size bed. As you might know, I have had many, many problems when renting vehicles. I also had little money at the time. I tried to work something out with my brother, the Purolator guy, but that never worked out.

But finally, last Friday I decided that come hell or high water, I would get that thing to Montreal. I checked out all the places where I could rent trucks. The only one I found was Discount in Ville St. Laurent. I reserved it for 4 pm Saturday to 9 am Sunday.

As always, I expect to fail when I try to rent a vehicle, because I have never successfully done it. I fail for one reason or another. True to form, I got there after a 40-minute metro ride and...failed. Because they needed a $500 deposit on my credit card. I only had about $100 left. And then it hit me. I needed more credit, so I called my credit card company and...got more credit. $1100 more, in fact. I was good to go. I finally was able to rent a vehicle. Sure, it was a sixteen-foot cube, unwieldy as hell, but it was mine for 16 hours. I left like joyriding.

I ended up doing pretty much that. Suj called me and said that he wasn't doing much, so he would like to join for the ride, and help move the bed in. I said I'd be at his place in 15 minutes, but it didn't work out that way. Driving in Montreal looks so easy when you are the passenger in a car. But the weekend traffic was busy, and the city designers thought it was a good idea to make people go around in a circle, then give them 50 metres to cross four lanes of traffic smoothly without causing an accident to make your turnoff. I never made that turnoff until 20 km later, when I was past my house. Eventually I made a turnoff, any turnoff, and decided to go home to get my existing bed, because I was in the neighbourhood anyway.

One hour later I picked up Suj. It was 5:30. I wanted to be two hours away in half an hour. I am nothing if not a bad planner. We finally pulled into town (after stopping to eat) at 8:30. Suj was pleasantly surprised. He thought Brockville was full of hicks and inbreds. But we have a Chamber of Commerce and a McDonald's.

When we got home, it was business as usual for me. But I discovered that my poor mother has sciatica. It was really tough to see her barely able to walk. I don't know what we'll do if she was to have a wheelchair. The place is NOT wheelchair friendly. And I can't stand the thought of her in a home. They should just call those places The Dying Grounds. Of course, there would be no shortage of spaces for her to live. Brockville has more Dying Grounds than most other cities of its size.

Dr. Suj went right to work, and figured that the medication that she was taking was shit. She recommended an over-the-counter drug that would be just as effective. That pretty much sealed it right there. Suj was now a favourite son. Dad and I were talking, and I went to start unloading the truck. Suj was held captive by Mom showing him her art, Bunka. Mom is quite adept at this. After 20 minutes of showing him her works (which are excellent), and picking out new projects, she decided to give him one. It's worth $350, and she gave him one. Needless to say, he was pretty damn impressed.

The more of Brockville Suj saw, the more he liked the place, so he wanted to look around. I showed him a little of the Brockville nightlife. After being disappointed by my former haunt, the Isaac Brock, we went to the Keystorm Pub for a pint where I told him stories of life in Brockville. Luckily, I didn't recognize anyone in the place. For the first time, I saw a bartender with one of those lower back tattoos that are so popular right now. Things are starting to change there. Maybe I'll see a whale tail this summer.

After the long drive home, we finally were able to get back to my place in Montreal. After finishing the last challenge, getting the bed up the curly stairs to the third floor without waking anyone up because it was midnight, we were finally free. I drove him home, came back, set up the bed and crashed.

When I returned the truck the next morning, I had to fill up the tank. The damn thing cost me $101.01. The only nice thing about it is the aesthetic qualities of the palindrome formed by the digits of the number. And I was so depressed by this that I didn't want to know how much this trip cost me, so I asked him not to tell. I still don't know.

Of course now I have another problem. That bed is so incredibly comfortable that I can't get out of bed in the morning no matter how much sleep I get. It sucks. Things just don't work out properly, do they?