Nando & His Blogging Table

Last year, I was dating a guy I thought could walk on water and was "head over heals" about him. He lived in a beautiful brownstone in Brooklyn and we had a passion that could only be compared to Paris Hilton and who ever she's preying on at the moment. Yeah, it was THAT special! But back to his brownstone--and I'm not making a racial pun because he was "of color". Ah, the open space in his living area; the grandness of it all was beyond control and anyone in New York knows what space means to us.

What I admired most about his home was an enormous wooden table he used as a desk. It was just amazing--especially in the days of quirky computer desks and fancy Ikea tables--this woodwork was an original and I'd stare at it for hours wishing, hoping, and dreaming he'd one day whisper into my ear, "Nando, would you like my giant-sized square wooden table?" Instead, he loudly said to me (and the waitress who was taking my crab cake order at the time), "Nando, I hope you're dating other guys because I know I am."

There went the free-table-fantasy. And along with my fantasy table give-away went my fantasy guy. To make matters worse, my mind played a horrible trick on me. It said, "I refuse to do any more work until you get a huge square wooden table like 'you-know-who'".

At the time Rameez was my roommate and I bugged him for days about a new desk for the house that only I could use for blogging.

Rameez: It makes no sense, just continue to blog on your current table.
Nando: But it's round.
Rameez: Can you afford to but a new table?
Nando: If I raise your rent I can.
Rameez: Make do.

And then--just like that, one year later on a cold and freezing Sunday afternoon on my way back from them gym I saw it; my new blogging table. It was both enormous and made from wood. (no gay-pun intended) What do I do? Do I call a cab and hope it would allow me to place the wooden gem in the trunk? Should I call the "man with a van" and explain that the 6 long blocks should be less than $50 bucks?

When living in New York, finding discarded furniture is a gift. Finding discarded functional furniture that meets the exact requirements of the perfect blogging table is cause to celebrate. I stood there for a long time as strangers walked by and scoped out my treasure. There were others treats left outside for the trash man to collect but this was what I needed. What I wanted. What I desired.

If I left the table and came back, it would be gone (New York Rule # 12--never leave your desired object thinking it will be there when you return). As some weird guy with a comb-over and plaid "members-only" jacket strolled by, he stopped and discovered framed art pieces like "A Pear" in watercolor and "A Doll With Bonnet" in acrylic. He pulled out some sort of awkward-looking table from underneath the piles of discarded books. It was my dream come true--an old adjustable hospital table on wheels. You know the kind they have in the hospital rooms that the nurse comes and sets your jello on and then she wheels the table over to your bed and you can adjust it to your comfort level.

I thought, when I'm not blogging on my huge table, I can set my laptop on this and wheel it over to my bed. When blogging I can adjust it to one level and when watching porn, to a different level. Two table in one day--can life get any better?

But it was the moment of truth and I decided to pick up the enormous wooden table and carry it on my back in the cold--like those women from African who carry buffalo on their backs. I thought, if they can carry dead livestock to their village with thin legs and costume jewelry; then I can carry this enormous wooden table six blocks to my place. As I began my travels, with an enormous wooden table on my back and my nifty Puma gym bag on my shoulder I had a moment of clarity. This table would be my salvation. This table would make my dreams come true. I also knew that I'd have to call a cheap chiropractor the next day because my back was starting to ache.

I took my time and I paced myself knowing that's what any good table-carrier would do. As I reached my apartment with my new prized possession, victory on my side. I had destiny by the balls. And I had to quickly go back and get my adjustable hospital table--so I rushed off back into the cold.

When I got back to the discarded furniture pile; the adjustable table was missing. Actually, the table part (what you place items on) was still there, someone had yanked off the table portion and tossed it aside and took only the adjustable part with the wheels. I wasted all that time walking back...for what?

How could the Universe be so cruel? Yes, I had the grand prize, but I also needed a consolation prize so I dug around and took a drawer from one of the dressers that had been left out in the cold.

So today, as I sit at my enormous wooden blogging table, with chronic back pain, know that I am at peace with the Universe and will continue to blog in comfort, love and harmony for days to come. For the lesson here is--never give up on your dreams. For only me and Barack Obama know the pains of making them reality. (I keep my back pain meds in the dresser drawer I took)