The Great Cushion Scam

You know the show The Big Bang Theory? The character Sheldon? He had a spot and me too, on the couch, in the same spot every day. Explain this to me like I’m five.

We can build a memory foam mattress that survives:
8 hours a night
every night
for years
…and every morning that thing rises back up like it just came off the showroom floor.

• No dents.
• No craters.
• No permanent imprint of my spine.
  

But somehow, my couch cushion, whose entire job description is literally “be sat on,” needs a rebuild just from my ass. It has a dent to match my shape as if it can now be used as a cast to mold a perfect replica, one that the world does not need. Of my ass.

I don’t sit down anymore. I descend into my assigned depression pocket. Getting up is like doing full squats, something I should not be doing after 5 knee operations. It is now like I am trying to get off the towel I use at the beach, even though that sand has more support. At least the beach has the decency to shift around a little before ruining your knees. Maybe I should fill the couch with sand?

What can’t they make couches like memory foam mattresses? This is not an old couch. It is a nice, high-quality leather couch with a nice texture, easy to keep clean, and larger armrests that make it easy to use my mouse.

But couch cushions? They gave out fast, not the support frame that is perfect, but that cushion is a marshmallow now. I’m convinced furniture stores only make couches comfortable for the first six months, like a free trial subscription. After that, the “premium support package” apparently expires. I refuse to give up my spot. Start calling me Sheldon.