In addition to being pretty uncomfortable, futon need to be aired out regularly in order to get all of the cooties out of them. Fortunately, I have a bed, but that doesn't stop me from experiencing the second-hand "joy" of futon beating. When my neighbors whack the hell out of their futons or order to chase out all of the creepy crawlies, they do it so loudly that I can't have a conversation with a student over the pounding. Additionally, the upstairs neighbors send down a rain of dust from their balcony to mine, and mine often has my clean laundry drying on it. There's nothing like transferring their dust mites to my undies. The thrashing they give their bedding is so hard that I wonder if this is the way in which women get out all of their frustration from days filled with "gaman".
I won't miss the noise or flotsam from futon beating.
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