Aerobed 1, Me 0
Ever hear that line “My possessions are causing me suspicion but there’s no proof” from that song “Don’t Dream It’s Over” by Sixpence None The Richer? Great song. It really started hitting home as I sunk through my rapidly deflating Aerobed and felt the floor. So much for a good night’s rest.It wasn’t always like this. It started with loud ripping sound coming from beneath me at 4 AM a few weeks back. The internal baffle on my double-decker, queen-sized Aerobed had broke, leaving me with a hyper inflated bump in the middle of my bed. No worries I thought, I still had what was an effective twin-sized bed. Just like dorms in undergrad. A call in the morning revealed that my 1.3 year old bed was beyond the 1-year warranty. Engineered to perfection they say.
Due to the increase in volume from the bump, the pressure in my bed went down. A brief repumping of my bed returned it to it’s original firmness. Everything was great until the increased stress from the bump pulled the next baffle apart, leaving me with a much larger bump. You can see where this is going. By the end of the week, I was not-so-comfortably sleeping on a sliver of Aerobed about 2 feet wide. Due to the peculiar nature of the sleeping on what’s really just a balloon, any movement to my left would not just roll me off the bed, but also launch me into the wall. For the record, that’s not a fun way to wake up.
Eventually, I came up with the bright idea that if I purposefully broke the remaining baffles, I may be able to actually sleep on the bump. I proceeded bring the bed to my empty living room, inflate the bed to it’s maximum capacity, and place my weight on it (read: fling myself onto it). Despite my efforts, the final baffle would not break, resulting in huge mound of an Aerobed that was literally dangerous if you rolled off the apex of the bump.
Defeated, I figured I’d at least clear the living room before my roommate came home. As I raised my Aerobump to angle it back into my room, it scraped against my popcorn ceiling. Little did I know, the popcorn on my ceiling had been reinforced with years of repainting, turning them into what could be seen as little razor stalagtites. This brief movement sliced through the bottom of my bed like swiss cheese, resulting in a loud hissing sound of rapidly escaping air. I returned the bed to its original position in my room and gently reclined on it. Its a rather comfy lounge chair for about 3 minutes.
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