Nothing screams bachelor more than places where you can sit and also sleep, but are uncomfortable to do either.
Ah yes, the inevitable futon. It's has been a mainstay in bachelor pads for years. It dates back to the cavemen who also had horrible taste in furniture and an $87 furniture budget (or four shiny rocks and three roundy rocks, in 40,000 BC rates). So there's no question as to why bachelors feel this urge to purchase used futons from Craigslist it's a primal urge, daggone-it! Here's the problem: No one actually likes these things. No one. Not the owner. Not the visitor. Not the company that made it. Not the trucker who delivered it. Not the spiders that live in it.
What's worse is that futons always break. Always. They always do. As a matter of fact, and this isn't even a joke, I broke the futon in my girlfriend's brother's room just a few days back. Seriously. Its like these things have expiration dates. And what's worse, do you know that the owner will NEVER throw the futon away? No matter how many razor sharp, flesh mutilating pieces the futons breaks into, the futon will retain it's place in the living room or bedroom of a bachelor like some sort of medieval torture device. There are only two ways to get rid of a bachelor's futon:
Beanbags (or beanbag chairs as it is referred to at the store, even though it will never be a chair again) are much less impossible, but come with one added issue. Beanbag chairs are 1% less comfortable everyday they exist. So by the time you buy a beanbag chair, it's already only about 67% comfortable.
"Ok, nothing wrong with that. I'll only use it to play video games, and maybe to get some work done on my laptop on Sundays."
Yep. Nope. You will continue to try to strategically sit in it at weird angles while you convince yourself and your dumb friends that it's "the best seat in the house". But it's not. It's the worst seat in the house. It would also be the worst seat in the following places:
So after about 30 days, when the beanbag (chair, ugh) is at 37% comfortabality (lets hear it, matheletes!), something excellent will happen. Wanna guess what? No, wait don't
don't do that. Don't guess. This is an article. I can't hear you. I'll bet you still tell Dora which path to take too, don't you? Anyway: the little white "beans" will start to spill out. Everywhere. And you'll NEVER be able to figure out where the hole is. Because beanbags are designed to betray you. The evil beanbag scientists aren't just content with just reaping the profit from low-cost, nonsensicle almost-furniture
they also want you to regret it always. Not one fun minute to be had by any.
Oh, and guess what futons and beanbags mean? They mean friends
or, I guess a better description of these people would be "people who don't ever want to leave". There is a unique feel of a bachelor's home that I like to refer to as "good enough-ish." If a bachelor has friends that live with their parents, or live on campus, or are possible homeless bums, and you have a futon or beanbag
well they kinda "won't leave". Like seriously. They will come over to play Call of Halo Theft Auto VI: The Rekindling, or watch the Fasterous and Furiorer: Zambia Drift deleted scenes, and they will stick around after the movie is over, then they'll stick around after that really good episode of SVU where Liv stabs that baby, then they'll stick around after the bachelor's roommates go to sleep, and they just kinda go to sleep and hope you didn't care they they are about to sleep at your house indefinitely like Sinbad in House Guest. That's how House Guest went, right? Anyone?
Ok, this one might not apply to everyone, but it applies to enough of you that I feel I must include it in this list. For those of you not familiar, I'm not talking about the ACDC album or the thin sheet of death that covers the streets after some good ol' freezing rain. I'm talking about this:
The issue with Black Ice air freshener is that is smells like melted tires, if melted tires were a flower. Its like fragrant death. And single guys from Chula Vista to Cape Elizabeth continue to put these nasty ass smelluloids in their cars. And I can tell you exactly how they get there.
A guy goes to the car wash, gets his car washed, goes to pay for the services he receives, and gets offered a free car freshener. So they thumb through the available scents (or just eyeball those one behind the counter if they are in a bad neighborhood) and they see strawberry, melon, sierran tumblegrass, and lavendar jubilee
and those all sound effeminate. "Man I don't want my car smelling like a candy store, or an orange grove, or anything else that anyone would find pleasant. Nah. I want my car to smell like men that try to hard. Got anything like that?" he asks Paolo, who barely understood the question. "You could try this
" and Paolo hands the bachelor the Black Ice air freshener. Since it's black, a manly color, the bachelor rejoices: "Finally, there's a scent for men!" Then he jumps in the air like he won some sort of scent lottery.
Heaven forbid you wanted your car to smell like lilacs, instead it now smells like an old Crayola factory. Great. And no, it doesn't attract women. As a matter a fact, I personally have had two different women get in my car on two separate occasions and make a "you have too much cologne on"-esque joke.
Women: please leave comments about this one. I've told some young bachelors this seemingly painful truth before and they never seem to get it. And current bachelors, if Black Ice is your personal favorite, keep hope alive. Many beautiful women don't have a sense of smell.
I have to preface this one by first congratulating any bachelors that have even bothered to decorate their bathrooms and/or bedrooms, because Lord knows it could be much worse. Now, it's time for me to make fun of you for trying.
For reasons I'll probably never understand, bachelors across America have somehow been convinced that colors from "cranberry" to a traditional "burgundy" are lady-killers. Always in bathrooms and bedrooms will you find cranberry shower curtains with matching cranberry toilet seat cozys, and a cranberry handsoap dispenser (which we both know will NEVER be refilled after the initial 'feel good' trip to the grocery story to procure a family size bottle of Softsoap). I have done this. When I had my one-room studio condo, it was all cranberry everything. There was a cranberry throw over the futon, a picture of something (Lord knows what) cranberry, a glass vase with little cranberry rocks inside (because it's always important to have nonsensical stuff around), a gold clock on the wall that had a cranberry face, a cranberry runner from the front door to the middle of the living room, a cranberry comforter
Man, my home looked like a murder scene, and you couldn't tell me NOTHIN'! At least not anything about any other colors, since apparently I only knew one.
I am not sure where this came from. But I have a very keen hypothesis. Shoot, who am I kidding I know exactly why this happens. I know where it came from and I know why many 20 24 year old bachelors all do this same thing. Because that is how Wal-mart and Target are set up. Everything is grouped by color or in matching set ups. And since no bachelor has any real interest in watching HGTV for pillow sham tips, they'll simply pick up whatever matches already. Its either all cranbery everything, or everything will be blue
but no woman wants to come to your manly-ass seascape apartment. Kings crown motif it is!
This one is my absolute favorite and will be true for bachelors forever. Every bachelor pad can have as many Black Ice-stenched, cranberry beanbag futons as you can fit into a two bedroom, one bath apartment, but guess what? It's just a flop house unless you have the centerpiece.
And that is: the biggest TV that a bachelor (and his roommates) can afford!! If you think about it, every bachelor's house is centered around a huge TV. It's positioned in the living room so it can be seen from the front door, couch, kitchen, and bathroom. If it's not big enough for that, take it back to Craigslist it doesn't meet the requirements, loser. And while you're at it, trade your losses in for a win, loser.
On move in day, you know, after the bachelor has introduced himself to the stranger he met via Facebook chat (aka his mew roommate), a very important conversation is had. Its usually about how "my buddy works at Best Shack City and can get us a HUGE discount on returned 94-inch Plasmas" and how "after this week, I'll have like $500 to put up for it, how about you?" Bachelors always remember this moment, because this $500 will be the last time your roommate ever seems to have anything to put on anything.
So it is acquired. A TV so large that the delivery guy had to damage the doorway just to get the it into the house.
Ha! Who am I kidding, no bachelor ever gets the TV delivered. That would have been another $200 bucks. Strap it to my Scion and lets get this sucker home.
So now its all set up, plugged in, every Playbox and Xstation and Dreamtendo machine is hooked up to it. The microwave is now running Netflix and they hooked up channel 54 to show the video from the iPad in the car. Excellent. Ok. So
Oh, I'll tell you. FOR WOMEN! The first thing that a (well-adjusted) bachelor is going to do is kick is roommate out (or banish him to his room with strict rules to stay there until noon the next day), call up the baddest (read: most attractive) chick in his iDroid and try to get her over to "watch a movie." Bachelors will invite a woman over to "watch a movie" and won't even have a movie, internet access, or a TV. As a matter of fact, I once saw a homeless man with a picture of a TV and a sign that said "
Ladies?" Because it's real in the field. Anyone who's ever had their own place, or whose parents had a basement, know that "watch a movie" mean "I'm going to put a movie on, turn the air on high, sit close to you on the couch, offer you a blanket, and try my hand at getting some horizontal lovin'.
And every bachelorette knows exactly whats going down. They always do. At least I hope they do. Because this bachelor just spent a lot of money at Radio Buy to distract you while he figures out if you notice his hand on your upper boob flesh.