Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

Please do not buy this horrible piece of crap. If you must throw away $60, at least don't make your life shoddier and sadder by having this awful artifact in your home. Giving the money to charity will make you feel good about yourself, and, while stacking your clothes neatly folded on the floor may make you feel a little trashy, at least you won't feel a gullible fool like I do every time I see it. I haven't had it long, so I can't report on its durability. I hope it crumbles to its constituent wood pulp soon, so I can sweep it into a bag and put it into the recycle bin without regret. I was sorely tempted, upon completing its assembly, to immediately wrestle it out to the curb, but that would only subject an unsuspecting neighbor to unpleasantness, and what did they ever do to me? If it weren't a spare-the-air day, I might resort to lighter fluid. What makes it so odious? It is very heavy for its size, but its heft is not due to solid construction. The fiberboard with thin plastic "wood grain" stickem sheets crumbles and peels at the slightest insult. The chest is held together by plastic dowels, thin tacks, a few half-turn cam fasteners, and wishful thinking. The back is, I kid you not, a piece of cardboard, folded in half for shipping, which I mistook for packing material. So why so heavy? Most of the weight is that fiberboard, a material that must have the lowest strength-to-weight ratio of any material known to man. Its very weight triggers despair, as one realizes it's far too heavy to pack up and return, and too many large loose parts to leave for the garbage pick-up except on designated large household waste days, when you might disguise it as an old, broken-down piece from decades past, among the stained recliners and rusted barbecues, so your neighbors don't think less of you. The tiny stick-on felt pads in lieu of proper feet inspire no confidence. The plastic drawer slides are, in a way, cunning in their cheapness, but the drawer "dampers" in the product description are, in fact, just little rubber washers. If the chest ever loosens up, which seems not unlikely, I'm sure the drawers will simply drop out of the slides, as there is no design element to prevent lateral movement. To assemble the chest, one must endure at least an hour of fiddly messing with teeth gritted to the waves of self-recrimination. Unlike other reviewers, I did not find parts missing, or need two people, or find holes that didn't line up. I did find more than a hundred tiny parts, each the cheapest possible choice. I did not find the instructions difficult to follow, but I'm very mechanically inclined. Many of you will be baffled at many steps and make errors, not because you're dumb, but because the assembly is so complex. Injury upon insult: I'm nursing several bad scratches from the sharp edges and corners of the fiberboard pieces. The dangerous bits are hidden once the whole thing is assembled, or at least they lie on the floor or against the wall. But that doesn't help the poor family member you call on to put this thing together. Once assembled, it sits square and tight enough, but, again, I have little confidence that will last. Maybe that's just hope talking. Seriously, if you're still thinking about ordering this repugnant testament to consumer sleaze, leave a comment here, and I'll do my best to talk you out of it. I'm not kidding. Doing my part to save you from this mistake will, in a small way, help to ease my shame and disgust.