A few weeks ago, I finally found the kitchen table I had been dreaming of:
1.) Espresso colored
2.) Room for lots of people
3.) Built in hidden leaf
4.) Counter height!
Of course, I found it on craigslist, which is feeling like the only place I shop these days. I went to pick it up early Saturday morning from a lovely woman named Natasha. As we started to load the table + 6 chairs into my car, we realized it just wasn't going to fit. I told her that it was no problem, and that I would just be back in a little bit for the second trip. Instead of agreeing, she insisted on loading the extra pieces in her car and driving them to my apartment with me. Then, when we got there, she offered to help me haul the table upstairs into my apartment (I hadn't quite figured out how I was going to make that happen). When all was said and done, I insisted on giving her the extra $25 over her asking price that I had in my pocket, which she assured me was totally unnecessary and then promised to buy someone else coffee with that money. Her parting words were an offer to e-mail her if I had any questions about Denver or needed anything. God (and Natasha) are good.
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