Oct 9, 2019: Table

We’re close to the delivery of our new coffee-cum-gaming table.

It’s stupidly exciting. I know it’s not going to make any difference to the way we play games – apart from they will be played in and on our new table – but I feel that even the very act of having this gaming table is going to life our gaming spirits. And it’s not even one of the massive, super-expensive, dining table-sized ones. It’s just a coffee table. It doesn’t have a built in TV, or USB ports or anything.

Which isn’t to say that wouldn’t have been lovely. But really we don’t have the space to justify the sex appeal of a huge dining table which would barely be used for dining. Even the dining table we do have – which is now in Carole’s study while she betters herself learning about the reputations of important women folk (important take home from this, incidentally, is that “slut shaming” had been going on since at least Cleopatra’s day so isn’t a new thing by any means) – was too big to really go in the living room, and that folded down a bit and we’d put the chairs scattered throughout the house. A huge table which couldn’t fold, but was nice to roll dice on, really wouldn’t cut the mustard.

Not here at least.

So we went coffee table sized and we ordered it about six weeks ago.

The turn around time for any table, they told me, is quoted as three months and is usually way quicker. So we’ve just been waiting, and today they got in touch about delivery.

It’s all very exciting.

And worrying as well, because it’s a lot of money to drop on a piece of furniture and it’s going to be a fun adjustment to not just whacking a mug of coffee on the top of it with no coaster underneath, or Carole just popping her feet up when she fancies. Or anything that has occurred and resulted in the variety of light, but noticeable, coloured stains on the top of our existing coffee table.

And then we have to work out what to play to “christen” it.

And, obviously, if I continue to lose then the table just gets smashed and I take it to mum’s for her to burn over winter.

It’s the only thing that makes sense.