Sofa Delivery Quotes

She sits at the edge of the leather sofa and looks around the living room, remembers the delivery man from Ethan Interiors who changed the lampshade the other day. “You got a great house, ma’am,” he’d said, with that curious American smile that meant he believed he, too, could have something like it someday. It is one of the things she has come to love about America, the abundance of unreasonable hope.

We’d been in his bed for hours. We never did that at my house. There were always too many excuses I could come up with for why we had to go back to friends-only mode. Emails to check, deliveries to sign for, orders to work on. And once we left the bed, my rules dictated that the affection had to stop. But here, we had nothing to do but stay between the sheets. Josh didn’t have a sofa or a TV, so we hung out under the covers, and technically, according to my own rules, that meant that kissing and affection were okay. I was enjoying the loophole. I needed every second of it. Josh didn’t seem to object either. We’d been having sex all day. After our quickie, we’d had a long, slow marathon, full of deep kissing and gentle rocking, followed by a giggling and playful romp with Josh tickling me mercilessly before he took me from behind. After we wore each other out, we’d lain there, our legs tangled together, talking about everything we did over the last two weeks.

WHENEVER I WOKE UP, night or day, I’d shuffle through the bright marble foyer of my building and go up the block and around the corner where there was a bodega that never closed. I’d get two large coffees with cream and six sugars each, chug the first one in the elevator on the way back up to my apartment, then sip the second one slowly while I watched movies and ate animal crackers and took trazodone and Ambien and Nembutal until I fell asleep again. I lost track of time in this way. Days passed. Weeks. A few months went by. When I thought of it, I ordered delivery from the Thai restaurant across the street, or a tuna salad platter from the diner on First Avenue. I’d wake up to find voice messages on my cell phone from salons or spas confirming appointments I’d booked in my sleep. I always called back to cancel, which I hated doing because I hated talking to people. Early on in this phase, I had my dirty laundry picked up and clean laundry delivered once a week. It was a comfort to me to hear the torn plastic bags rustle in the draft from the living room windows. I liked catching whiffs of the fresh laundry smell while I dozed off on the sofa.

This is a very well engineered piece of furniture - easy to move, easy to open and fold back, comfortable to sit in and sleep in. We love the colour and the fabric. A prompt delivery was an additional bonus. In other words - this armchair is exactly what we have been looking for. Thank you!