“I could have sworn she said the corner of Guerrero and Dorland . . . ”
Is there something about a couch on the sidewalk that somehow easily becomes anthropomorphized and pitiful? Is it because they’re a place of comfort, but also a place that we sink into when we’re sad?
In case you somehow missed it, SFist did a cool piece a couple weeks ago with a Sofa Free master, Erik Wilson: The Abandoned Couches of San Francisco.
Despite the emotional feeling taht remain of you. I think the sofa must be replace with a new one.