There's more! I just got another email from Ms. Conway:

EC: "Ilya, I've been thinking that I would be able to put the bigger peices partly in the front seat. If you still have it I could come get it tonight [or] Monday night... ???"

I: "No, I would rather give it away for free than deal with you."

- or -

I: "Please read my blog"

I tried to sell my old futon over craigslist. Over the course of the week, I exchanged around 8 or 9 emails with a woman named Eileen Conway. We finally settled on 7:30 pm, Thursday night. We discussed transportation options, and I mentioned she might have to tie the back of her SUV down. I got to Mair's house, the location of said futon, at 7:30, and patiently waited for the woman to arrive.

7:50 - My phone rings
EC: "I am running a little late, I will be there in a few minutes, just wanted to let you know".
I: "Ok, thanks for letting me know. Do you need directions?"
EC: "No, it's just at [address], right?"
I: "Yup, that's right. Apartment [apt#]. You know how to get here then?"
EC: "Yes, I'll be there soon. Will you bring the futon downstairs?"
I: "Well, do you want to see it assembled first, or do you want me to take it apart and bring it down?"
EC: "I guess I want to see what it looks like".

8:25 - My phone rings
EC: "I am lost, I can't find your place. I am on highland st."
I: "I don't know where that is. Do you know where Cambridge st. is?"
EC: "No."
I: [explain where Cambridge st. is]
EC: "Ok, be there soon."
I: "Ok, entrance is on the side of the building near the train tracks. There is also a big liquor store downstairs."

8:45 - My phone rings
EC (sounds very angry): "This has been such a nightmare. I am at the entrance but I don't see a buzzer."
I: "You are on the wrong side"
EC (exasperated sigh): "How tall is this futon frame anyway?"
I (realizing that the futon will not be sold tonight): "I am not sure, but you can come up and see it, since you are right here"
EC (angrier) : "This has been so difficult. There is a group of boys here and I don't feel safe. OK, I will pull the car around."

8:50 - My phone rings
EC: "What apartment is it?"
I: "I'll buzz you in"

8:55 - Eileen enters apartment.
I: (I wonder what she was scared of - she probably ate at least 2 of the aforementioned boys already)
EC (angrier): "This has just been so annoying. "
I: "Ok"
EC: "Ok, looks good, let's bring it down"
I: "Do you want to disassemble it or try to put it in as is?"
EC: "Disassemble"

(About 5 minutes into the disassembly process, as Eileen stands and watches over me taking the futon apart...)
EC: Hmm, I don't think this will fit into my car.
I: "Ok. Can you tie down the back of your car?"
EC: "I was planning to keep it in the car overnight and drive it to New Hampshire tomorrow morning."
I: "Ok do you have measuring tape to see if it will fit?"
EC: "No, let's just finish taking it apart and bring the part down."

9:15: (I take the frame apart as Eileen stands over me and gives me instructions. We bring down the biggest piece of the frame. She puts it into the trunk and it doesn't fit by about 4 inches.)

EC: "I don't think it's going to fit."
I: "It'll fit if we prop it on the side and push down the front seat. The other pieces are not as long."
EC: "No, I don't think this is going to work."
I: "Ok, bye."

Early on I realized Eileen's comprehension of the world and a sense of what is right and wrong was radically different from mine, and so any insults I could levy at her would not make the slightest difference. However, to make myself feel better:

YOU ARE A FAT, STUPID, UGLY CUNT, EILEEN CONWAY. The world owes you nothing - clearly it has already given you too much (especially in the gastronomic department), such that you feel some sense of entitlement. When you are older, fatter, stupider, and uglier, you will look back and wonder why your life turned out as crappily as it did, and I'll know why. Cause you deserved it.

I really am a people person.