My Hatchback (The Overreacting Rant)

JB and I are trying to transition into a new phase of our lives and gracefully shed the hand-me-down and/or broken furniture we've been carting around with us since 1997. We are shopping around a lot because furniture is EX-PEN-SIVE. So we find the chair we ABSOLUTELY MUST HAVE, and then look for one that costs one fifth the price.

Anyhoo- we found one last weekend. Uber-comfortable, should be around for a very long time (for not a crazy amount). And when we were discussing how we'd transport it, I asked JB if it might fit in my hatchback. A sales clerk immediately pooh-poohed my hatchback. MY HATCHBACK. This is the little car that can hold my massive scroll-top desk. That carted the USC dolly, track AND LIGHTING KITS to many a student film set back in the day. The car that folds the space-time continuum to contain pretty much exactly what you need it to. And never complains.

All that being said, I think in this particular case she might be right. However, my hatchback rules.