Woke up today itching to finally build that removable volleyball floor I’ve been eyeing for months. Grabbed my neighbor Bob ’cause two dumb heads better than one, right? Opened the boxes and immediately groaned. Those hevea wood planks felt heavier than my Aunt Mabel’s fruitcake. The instructions? Pure hieroglyphics with stick figures doing yoga poses.

Groundwork Nightmares

First, we had to prep the concrete floor in Bob’s backyard. Swept like maniacs ’til our brooms almost caught fire. Then came the moisture barrier – unrolled that giant plastic sheet and instantly regretted it. Wind decided it was kite-flying time. Bob tripped, wrapped himself like a mummy, and spent five minutes cussing. Finally duct-taped that slippery beast down – whole thing smelled like wet socks.

The Click-Clack Chaos

Starting the first row felt like defusing a bomb. Those click-lock joints on the hevea planks needed Hercules’ strength. Me and Bob:

• Stomped on ’em till our knees screamed
• Whacked ’em with rubber mallets til the neighbors peeked over the fence
• Ended up crawling on all fours shoving planks together like playing puzzle Tetris

Midway, disaster struck. Turns out plank #7 had a gnarly bend like a banana. Had to saw off the warped end – wood chips flew straight into Bob’s coffee cup.

Lockdown Mayhem

Connecting the sections nearly broke us. These removable brackets looked simple, but flipping those levers felt like wrestling grizzly bears. One bracket snapped shut and pinched my thumb – I almost screamed the streetlights on. Sweating bullets, we finally got the lock pins through after:

• Hitting ’em with a hammer (bad idea)
• Drenching ’em in WD-40 (better idea)
• Praying to the volleyball gods (desperate idea)

Grand Finale Fire Drill

Last step was testing the removability part. Bob yanked a lever while I stood on that panel – whole floor did the cha-cha slide! We both toppled like drunk penguins. After fixing that trainwreck, we jumped around testing the bounce. Victory tasted like dust and sweat. That solid thump underfoot? Pure magic. Still finding wood splinters in my hair though. Worth every blister.