The breaking point came on a Tuesday when he rolled over and heard a sound like a rusty gate hinge screaming in agony.

That afternoon, he walked into "Sleep Haven" with the focused energy of a man on a mission. He bypassed the high-tech memory foams that felt like quicksand and the "smart" beds that probably reported your snoring to the government. He wanted the classic: a full-size mattress and a matching box spring. Solid. Dependable. High enough off the ground that he didn't feel like he was camping.

When the delivery truck arrived two days later, Leo felt like he was receiving a royal carriage. He hauled the old twin to the curb and watched the movers slide the new duo onto his frame. That night, for the first time in years, Leo didn't sink. He didn't creak. He just drifted off, finally horizontal, in a bed that didn't fight him back.

"It’s got edge support," Gary whispered, as if sharing a state secret.