Bench of a Million Pieces

So I bought this BowFlex weight bench because using the coffee table just isn't cuttin' it. The table's too wide and I'm starting to scuff it and I can't hide the marks anymore.

I ordered the bench from Amazon.com because shipping is free. Go Amazon! Free shipping in this down-turned economy is like Christmas! And Christmas it really seemed because the bench was delivered today, only two days after ordering! What the?!?! How can that be? Don't know and I'm not asking. I don't want any extra charges.

I dragged the box in, quickly opened and was ready to start using it. But there was a problem. The weight bench was in a million pieces! I stood there in awe of the assembly people for a while wondering how a weight bench could be in so many pieces. How is that possible? It was as bad as one of those stinkin' Chinese made book shelves I bought a couple years ago. Took me two days and some alcohol to put that thing together.

Once the amazement and utter shock wore off, I started in on the assembly. It took about 20 minutes, lots of sweat because the tools are never adequate, and much praying so I wouldn't "lose it" in front of my youngest.

Now it's assembled...yay! But I read a tag that says the seat material is made out of cemented polyurethane. Cemented?! I thought that was only for sidewalks and driveways! I'll bet it's some cancer-causing crap, which would be ironic since I bought the bench to make me healthier.

Stupid TV

I had a little down time while on temporary duty so, while in my hotel room, I turned on the TV. Big mistake. The night consisted of watching a Discovery Health about a guy who had to have part of his skull removed (by a micro-saw) with a follow-on episode of a person who gets big ugly unexplained sores all over her body. Of course I could not change the channel because of the sick attraction to gore and strange things.

Once I came out of the trance, I turned to the next channel. It was about racist organizations in America with a follow-on episode about Gangs and guns.

By the end of the evening I was greatly depressed, obsessed with washing my hands every five minutes in case I inadvertently brushed against a deadly bacteria, and had a feeling of impending doom about walking out the door.

I think this is the hotel's way to keep people in their rooms and drink all their expensive liquor instead of going out and seeing the sights. Well, it worked.