There are definitely a few phrases I do not like to read.

I think the words I most dread reading are SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED.

I’m strong at sports trivia and can be good at composing a pithy tweet or Facebook comment but putting something together whose parts come out of a box — no, that sort of task is not in my wheelhouse.

Years ago, treks out to a behemoth IKEA planted in a distant suburb usually involved a subsequent visit by a friend that could help me put a book shelf or other piece of furniture together.

My cries for help weren’t about a failure to read Swedish or Japanese or Chinese. I just didn’t “get” the step-by-step process detailed in the packaging. It always seemed that steps were missing.

As a freelancer, I’ve written instructions and have an understanding of reference points and sequencing steps. I usually find quick-step guides that come with a product to lack both.

And videos — many people seem to love how short reels exist on the Internet for everything from cleaning the filter in your dishwasher to moisturizing your face.

But some people (like me) don’t relate to videos. For me, the only thing better than the steady voice and hand-holding of an expert guiding me through putting something together is if the expert actually performs the assembly.

A few weeks ago, I decided I wanted to buy a portable exercise bicycle. Not a Peloton or some fancy bike with computer tracking of daily workouts and an integrated cell phone charger. (Can a home exercise cycle actually do that?)

Just something stable and comfortable, with a timer and different resistance settings, ideally, something I could move to different rooms of my home — myself.

Oh yes, I had one other deal breaker. It had to cost under two hundred bucks.

I felt stuck. I did research on Amazon. I saw several models within my price range that seemed stable and had good reviews but product profiles often came with those dreaded words about assembly. Sometimes, I even read “expert assembly” involved an $89 surcharge.

A visit to Dick’s, probably the largest sporting goods store in my area, only displayed the expensive home exercise equipment, They weren’t going to waste precious merchandizing space on something other than high ticket items.

To recap:

• I wanted to buy an affordable home exercise bike but was not prepared to handle the required assembly myself.
• Just the thought of spilling parts out from an oversized box and MAKING something I could pedal in place as I watched TV filled me with anxiety. From past purchases, I was convinced setup instructions would, invariably, be incomplete and not easy to follow. In-person customer support for installation help would not be available.
• My shortcomings in this area made me feel sad about living alone. For the most part, I enjoy my life. I don’t look at my status as a single householder as a character flaw. Still, I couldn’t help but contemplate how great it would be to have help putting something together.

At a recent family dinner, I shared my dilemma with my youngest niece, a twenty-something, who helped me years ago install my Sonos speakers. Being extremely busy with two jobs, taking care of her dog and nexus of “human” relationships, I have learned not to expect her aid.

But she knew about affordable home exercise bikes. She suffered through the process of putting one together herself before she sold it and upgraded to one of those expensive models.

We arranged for her to come over to my place for dinner and assembly help within two weeks. She assured me that I did not need special tools, that everything came in the box. I made one of her favorite dinners: grilled skirt steak, corn on the cob, and hot fudge sundaes. I promised not to put blue cheese crumbles on the salad.

After dinner, we retreated to my living room. She put the bike together in under forty minutes and adjusted the seat height for me. She let me use her Apple TV account and we watched Ted Lasso while my area rug filled up with Styrofoam bits of packaging material from the box.

I had heard about the show, but I had never seen it before. She confessed that she was eager for me to see it because she thought I would really like it, that there was something about the main character whose dominant trait was simply being a nice guy that made her think I’d appreciate it.

Having someone come over to help with assembly, to be able to enjoy their company over dinner and indulge in a little binge-watching, is no small thing.