Every time I put my coffee mug down, I wonder if the surface is bugged. Every time my dog bumps into it, I flinch, waiting for the "third-rate burglary" of the whole thing collapsing.
I have no memory of what happened during that time. Did I assemble it correctly? Did I strip the threading? The world may never know. I call it "plausible deniability." Step 7 is brutal. It tells you to flip the table over onto its feet.
If the table stands firm? You have won the election. You pour a whiskey (or a ginger ale) and stare out the window at the Chesapeake Bay. After three hours, a lot of sweating, and one unconfirmed report of a stripped screw in the Southeast corner, the Nixon Coffee Table was built. nixon coffee table assembly instructions
I was assembling the lower shelf. I had the bracket in one hand and the screw in the other. Everything was going smoothly. I looked down at my watch.
This is the moment of truth. You press down on the surface. If the table wobbles, you don't just tighten a screw. You have to go on television (or Instagram Live) and explain to your followers: Every time I put my coffee mug down,
I blinked. I was now sitting on the floor with the bracket upside down, a screwdriver in my mouth, and the instruction page missing. Page 7 (the crucial "lower shelf alignment" page) was just... gone. Erased. Covered in what looked like old coffee.
Here is what I learned from trying to build democracy... I mean, furniture , the Nixon way. The first step reads: "Inventory all parts before beginning. Do not trust the pictures. The pictures lie." Did I assemble it correctly
If the peg doesn't go in, the manual suggests you launch a "secret bombing campaign" of your living room floor with a rubber mallet. Hit it until it denies everything. This is the most frustrating part of the build.