Anyone remember that “Seinfeld” episode where Kramer put a hot tub in his apartment living room? Did you ever wonder how he actually got it in there?
In the real world, hot tubs don’t fit through doors. The hot tub that was almost mine is inside the living room of a custom-built home, which was built around the hot tub. Anyway, litigation, yadda yadda, husband’s firm now owns this place with a hot tub in the living room. They plan to rent it out, and apparently leaving the hot tub there is not a sensible option, even if Kramer himself were the lessee. The humidity would cause rot and mold.
So, it seemed the sensible thing to do was move the hot tub. What better place than our own backyard? We started making plans for transport. Unfortunately, we discovered there’s no way to get it out in one piece. It will cost us $450 to have it sawed into four pieces and carted away.
It’s not as if hot tubs are ridiculously expensive, the way building a pool is. They start in the low four figures. So if a hot tub were a priority, one could be purchased. But that won’t happen, because once one starts talking actually purchasing a hot tub, it brings up the cumbersome subject of backyard improvement, which involves an in-ground pool with a built-in hot tub and other coordinated, architecturally pleasant amenities that are not happening anytime soon. Mr. Tone has purchased fancy, hardcover books on the subject and drawn up plans on his computer. The serendipitous hot tub would have done an end-run around the whole mess.
I feel like Elaine in that episode where she lost her sandwich card. I don’t want just any hot tub. I want my discarded hot tub.