A few weeks ago, after having a some drinks at a friend’s house, James was driving me home. We entered my neighbourhood at about midnight and passed by a busier corner a few blocks from my house. On the front yard of a house on this busier corner rested an abandoned chair; one that was free to whoever wanted it or it would go to the dump. Well, I could not pass up this opportunity. I asked James to stop and he helped me load it into my trunk.
“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, and I said “Yes, I’m Sure.”
It smelt a little like cigarettes but I planned on swapping the cushions off the wooden frame anyways. James dropped me and my new prize off at my house and I brought it right down into my basement. I couldn’t let my parents see it cause they wouldn’t be happy I was bringing garbage in off the street, even if it was for my basement TV room. A few weeks past with it in my hiding spot. I kind of forgot about it and my parents never saw it. I certainly never got any new cushions for it. It was getting nearer the end of the summer and I knew I couldn’t have my parents find it while I was off at school, so I had to change plans. I got a closer look at the chair in some better lighting and it wasn’t that nice: a bulky, wooden rocker with springs under the butt and two arm rests. It wasn’t the lounger style I was hoping for. I loaded the beast in the trunk of my minivan while my parents were elsewhere and kept it there as I went about my day, hoping I would be out late that night. Sure enough, that same day, I was driving home from a friends house at about one in the morning. I whipped up to the house on the busier corner and dropped the chair off right where I grabbed it.
I would love to have heard the conversation that occurred the following morning.
You’re Welcome,
B.F Greeno, aka,
Take-A-Chair-Leave-A-Chair
