I can hear my mother’s voice in my head right now, “If you don’t use that coaster, you’re toast!” or some other facsimile thereof. I think it is actually one of the Ten Commandments, no? And as I aged out of my parental unit-run household and started to get nice things of my own, I began to realize the value of that statement (more like screaming order).
Coasters can be pretty or have little funny anecdotes imprinted on them, but I buy them only in part because of their charm. Let’s just be honest here. I am trying to direct your attention to them so that you might use one without me having to impart my mother’s high-pitched, spittle-spewing plea.
Let me ask you a question or two. Would you walk into someone’s house with dirty or wet shoes without wiping your feet on the mat (Those mats are there for a reason too.); or how about not being neat when you sprinkle the seat? I’m just sayin’. It’s pretty much the same thing (sort of), and it literally takes two seconds to scoot a coaster over toward yourself so that you can place your drink on it.
Coasters do a remarkable job of protecting the furniture you worked so hard to buy and match to every other item in the room. They are like little samurai body guards that bring condensation, dribbles and drips to their knees.
Here’s a fun fad that’s working its way around. It’s called the $5 coaster rule. Basically it goes like this. If you leave a ring on my table when you come over and drink a drink I so graciously offered you, you pay me five dollars. It’s like insurance for the damage you caused. Cool, huh?
Don’t worry. I don’t really want your money. I just want my favorite furniture intact when you leave; and if you place your drink on a coaster while you are in my home, it may even taste better. I know my drink will.