“Why can’t you listen for once?” Vanessa crossed her arms. “You’re doing it all wrong.”
“I don’t need the instructions,” Amy retorted.
“Just look at the edge; it looks off.”
“Who is doing this?!”
“It should not be that hard; the instructions are right here.”
“It’s my table; I can build it.”
“That looks backward; try the other side.”
“You want to do this!”
“Okay, but I’ll need you to hold some parts while I tighten the screws.”
“I thought you were so smart. Why do you need my help?” Amy said sarcastically.
“It’s a two-person job; I don’t have extra arms!”
“Why are you yelling?”
“I’m not yelling!!!”
“Can you please help me?” begged Vanessa.
“You’d better watch your attitude; I’ll just walk away,” threatened Amy.
“¡Sangre de Christo!” Vanessa said, surrendering.
The table is assembled, and one of the fold-up leaves doesn’t quite fit.
“Did you follow the instructions?” Amy questioned Vanessa’s approach.
“Yes, I did; maybe it is a factory defect.”
“You just won’t admit you’re wrong, will you?”
“I’ll fix it!” Vanessa continued. “Help me flip the table.”
“I’m tired and too old for all this, Ms. Cuban Know-it-all!”
“Ah! There you go again; I’ll fix it another day!”
“You just love to quit, don’t you?” Amy doesn’t quit.
“Another day, when we are both in a better mood, I’m also getting too old for this.”
“Agreed, it’s the last time I’ll buy something that requires assembly.”
Five minutes later.
“What are you ordering now?” inquires Vanessa.
“Chairs to go with my new table.”
“Agggh!”
I’d live anywhere free of all the stress happening in this country right now. Is there such a place?
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