We ordered a beautiful, stained timber four-poster bed from Kubek, a furniture store in Leicester. We’d been lusting after that bed for years and we’ve always said that when we buy a house, we’ll get The Bed. We bought a house. We bought The Bed. It was supposed to be delivered yesterday. The thing is fricken’ huge and weighs a ton. It was assembled without hitch (the guy even commented on how smoothly it was going). It is beautiful.
It is the wrong size.
We ordered a king sized bed. They delivered a double. It is not a simple problem of having another bed delivered. They’re made to order from Malta. Apparently the guy in Malta (a gentleman called Tony who will shortly receive a bollocking) shipped the wrong bed. When Kubek received their shipment, they checked that all the pieces were there and that it all fit, but they didn’t realize that it was the wrong size. It’s only when the assembly man tried to fit the mattress slats and they wouldn’t fit that something clicked. The bad news is that the next shipment isn’t due until July. They’ll see if they can get cross-members of the right size shipped sooner, but no promises there. They were falling over themselves to apologize and, in essence, we’re still fine to sleep in our old bed in what will be the guest bedroom.
So close, and yet so far.
