Dumpster Diving.
I drove cross country, arriving with one suitcase of clothes, a bookshelf, an air mattress, and a chair. Not to mention a light wallet... soon to be even lighter with the AmeriCorps stipend and Real World bills to pay [more to come on that, too].
Beth, from New Jersey, and Melissa, from Maine, were in the same situation. I wondered if the others would want shi shi furniture from Pier 1 or World Market or something else I love and can't afford, but fortunately that wasn't the case.
Beth had heard of a place in Marina called Last Ditch Mercantile, which is one step above dumpster diving. In fact, Last Ditch is a warehouse/parking lot attached to the Marina Dump. Driving there, involved a stop at Starbucks (naturally), driving up and down Highway 1 making several u-turns, blowing through one stop sign and two red lights... Then we found an unpopulated area, with one hilly road, that lead to the dump. Only in California will you find the road to a dump lined in vivid flowers. Only in the Salad Bowl of the World will you find those flowers ready for agricultural mass production. It was the biggest garden I've seen, planted in rows of oranges, yellows, reds and pinks. On the way to the dump.
We got out and found a few things before deciding on the coffee table and end tables we ended up buying. The couches caught our eye. There was one in faux-leather (but not pleather), that was more like a half-plastic-half leather blend that was really sleek. It was a brown that had faded to yellow in places. In the right light, it looked like there was glitter in the faux leather mix. The next couch we found was a paisley, also brown, and very antique. As intriguing as these pieces were, we opted out of them for hygienic reasons. But I might like to go back...
Once we'd decided on the tables--matching light pine, clean, slightly dorm-like but by some miracle still sturdy--we forced them into Melissa and Beth's cars like a jig saw puzzle. Mine has a cracked exhaust pipe right now so we opted not to take it... We fit one into the front seat of Melissa's two-door Honda Civic, while her co-piloted opted to crunch into the back seat. In Beth's Hyundai Touring hatchback (!), we fit the coffee table and remaining end table. We had to shut the hatch very carefully so the leg of the table wouldn't break through the glass. Then Beth and her sister Kate hopped in the front seat, and I took a seat scrunched next to the two tables, with a suitcase resting on my lap and two colorful posters, $1 a piece, smacking me in the face for the 10-minute ride home.
We are strong girls. Kate took the coffee table, long and probably 20 pounds, and carried it up to our second-floor apartment on her own. Beth then proceeded to (slowly) unlock the door, with Melissa's keys because her own aren't cut properly. Kate, slightly sweating, made it through the door with the table, which became the second piece of furniture in our living room.
It's starting to feel like home.
