That's Random: God, I Love Craigslist

Last night while I was reading the Paris Hotel Boutique Journal, I saw this picture of a vintage moderne-style lowboy dresser that Lynn has in her wonderful shop -- and I just about fell out of my chair.

Not just because the $2,100, circa-1930s brushed-metal dresser is beautiful -- though it certainly is -- but because I own it. Or at least, I own a pretty close approximation.

It was one of those finds that you aren't looking for and don't really need, but that you know instantly you must have, and drop everything to grab it.

In my case, I was casually perusing the "for sale" postings on craigslist one day (in an effort, no doubt, to avoid doing something productive -- please note the name of this blog). Five minutes and one rushed phone call later, I was tearing out of the house to pick it up some 25 miles away.

The woman from whom I bought the dresser was moving to some seaside paradise in Mexico, and hastily selling off everything she owned. (Was she escaping the memories of a bad breakup? Running back to a vacation romance that had unexpectedly turned serious? Or simply acting on a nagging desire to live a simpler life? I was dying to know, but restrained myself from prying.)

I could tell she was sorry to let the dresser go, and she told me over and over how much she loved it. But she was making a fresh start and a clean sweep -- so go it must. I was happy to take it off her hands. The grand total: A hundred bucks.

Today, it sits in my home office, where it holds assorted packing and office supplies -- and glams up the joint a bit. Granted, my dresser doesn't have the original mirror that makes the Paris Hotel Boutique piece such a showstopper. And let's just say it's a bit more aged. (I simply adopt a haughty accent and call it "patina," darlings.)

But still, $100? You gotta love that -- and I do.