Looking Beyond the Functional Aspect of Coasters
As an introvert and a serious work-at-home homebody, when I go to other people’s homes, I usually hang out in the doorway longer than necessary until the host or hostess takes me by the arm and ushers me in. Then I worry about my shoes. Am I tracking in dirt" Should I take them off" […]
As an introvert and a serious work-at-home homebody, when I go to other people’s homes, I usually hang out in the doorway longer than necessary until the host or hostess takes me by the arm and ushers me in. Then I worry about my shoes. Am I tracking in dirt" Should I take them off" Is that weird" When we finally arrive to the “Ah, come sit down” phase of the visit, I know the obligatory “Can I get you a drink"” is coming. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve left homes with wet spots on my pants because I didn’t grow up with coasters and, until recently, I didn’t trust them. I was afraid I’d damage the surface in someone’s home so I kept my glass in hand for the entire visit. I came around to coasters when my daughter, bless her innocent heart, left two ugly black rings on a recent thrifted find in our living room — two blond wood vintage tables I knew would come into my life someday, light and small enough to move around as needed should I have a rare guest. After that incident, I went on a coaster bender. We won’t get into that, but let’s just say it involved way ...
As an introvert and a serious work-at-home homebody, when I go to other people’s homes, I usually hang out in the doorway longer than necessary until the host or hostess takes me by the arm and ushers me in. Then I worry about my shoes. Am I tracking in dirt" Should I take them off" Is that weird" When we finally arrive to the “Ah, come sit down” phase of the visit, I know the obligatory “Can I get you a drink"” is coming. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve left homes with wet spots on my pants because I didn’t grow up with coasters and, until recently, I didn’t trust them. I was afraid I’d damage the surface in someone’s home so I kept my glass in hand for the entire visit. I came around to coasters when my daughter, bless her innocent heart, left two ugly black rings on a recent thrifted find in our living room — two blond wood vintage tables I knew would come into my life someday, light and small enough to move around as needed should I have a rare guest. After that incident, I went on a coaster bender. We won’t get into that, but let’s just say it involved way ...
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