The top was battered and bruised from years of abuse, the sheen warn down to the wood, splotched by paint, magic marker, sharpies, a painting of King George III that bled through Oldest Daughter's paper. She loves Hamilton.
We bought that table 20 years ago this spring when we lived in Northern Virginia. We remember it well. Mrs. Stroock saw an ad in the paper, yes, the paper (ask your parents, Millennials). We met her in the furniture store on the way home from our job as a copywriter. We were wondering around the store, turned a corner, and there was the table. A friend of ours with a pickup brought it home for us.
If reader's think we're getting sentimental, they're right. Back then we'd get ready for work first. While Mrs. Stroock got ready, we'd sit in front of the TV watching cartoons and/or MTV. We'd leave the house at 7:40, drop off Mrs. Stroock in Alexandria, and then begin the long slog down Route-7 for Seven Corners.
Here's one of the video's that was in rotation a lot, The Mighty, Mighty Boss Tones, So Sad to Say. It's always stuck with us for some reason. Here's the table.
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