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I'm 40 and I can't keep up with my disco coffee table anymore. I've aged, the table craves the unbridled power of youth. It keeps asking me to snort mounds of white powder off its mirrored surface, but my hangovers last too long. It wants a twenty something who can go on a Tuesday bender and still work the next day. It wants to reflect a parade of young, naked strangers in impossible positions night after night. My libido has faded and I crave a good night of sleep more than another one night stand. The table has a couple missing chunks of mirror. My decorator insists I'm too well heeled to own such college like furniture and made me buy something from Restoration Hardware.
Disco Table needs a new home. A home where the party doesn't stop. A home where the neighbors are annoyed. A home where debauchery and bad decisions are the norm. A home where straws are cut short and a grinder is always on hand just in case. I need to know Disco Table will be passed on to somebody who thinks cardio means: the way a heart races after your medical insurance card is used to cut lines.
Let me know if you think you would be the right kind of owner for Disco Table. Dimensions: 66x36x17.
$20 if you pick him up. $50 and I'll bring him to you and help you put him in your living room.