The Chair – now moved to the Waiting Room
I am a chair. Not just any chair – but a chair in a Waiting Room. Thus I am officially a Waiting Room Chair. I’ve been a chair for as long as I can remember. Originally I was a Study Chair but as my surface became a little tatty and one or two of my joints creaked, I was put in the Waiting Room. I am not alone here. There are other Waiting Room chairs too. Three from the Library; two from Reception and one from the hall. This last one is a new chair, well he seems new. He says his name is ‘Refurbished’ so I suppose that will do.
The term ‘new’ is misleading anyway. Some of the senior chairs in our group say that in a previous incarnation we were trees and before that seedlings. They mutter about it all being karma as one day we will all be cremated and in our final death throes will be giving out warmth. Sort of ashes to ashes, dust to dust etc. they even mutter that in their previous life they were hugged by long-haired people. How strange! Must be something in the sap.
That all seems a bit deep for me.
What I do know though is that mine is a life of service. I am here for humans to use. I am one of the ‘dentist’s waiting room’ group. There are seven of us, specially chosen, I am told because we were originally part of a ‘sale at MFI’ though I am not sure what that means. Some sort of discount on Office Furniture. I imagine MFI is something like Making Friends Irritable as certainly all the humans who were around when I was originally purchased, seemed in a bad mood. People who come here now are also stressed, but quiet with it. They talk to one another in whispers – as if that will stop us listening! Six days a week a string of patients come in to see the dentists here. They all exhibit a degree of nerves and I (and my colleagues) bear the brunt of it.
The problem is that we are not special chairs. This is a National Health Dentist’s waiting room so there’s no cushions or anything like that. This means that I bear the full brunt of any occupant. Mrs. Jones was in the other day. She brought with her her very nervous son, James. I don’t know what it was, maybe a big breakfast or perhaps the combination of nerves, toothache and one of those bugs that always seems to be going round. Anyway he did all sorts of unmentionable things while sitting on me, most unpleasant I can tell you. I would enlarge on this but it’s not funny, toilet humour.
Then there’s Mrs. Freeandeasy. She usually comes with her daughter, Jemima. For some reason Mrs Freeandeasy does not like wearing underwear. Therefore on a summer's day, when she’s wearing a short skirt – I don’t think I ought to go on but I am sure you can imagine.
One day Mrs. Knight bright in her dog – not for the dentist to see, I assure you but as some sort of company. The dog actually was given a seat – me! The cheek of it. There it sat, great big fat hairy thing, molting its horrible hair all over my nice smooth surface. Sometimes it would lick its paws and then rest them on my nice padded surface. Droplets of dog saliva would trickle down – yuck! I am worth more than being just a substitute dog basket!
Sometimes I get moved around. This usually happens near Christmas time. That’s when Judy (she’s the receptionist) starts to decorate the rooms. Something to do with ‘lightening the atmosphere’. She makes paper chains and hangs them all over the room. It all looks quite pretty. She even brings in a tree and hangs sparkly things on it. Round the base she lays crackers. One year she even brought in chair covers for me and my friends. Apparently they had been made by the kids at a local primary school. Unfortunately when the Xmas period had finished they wanted them back – but it was nice of them to think of us. Chairs feel the cold too, you know.
To outsiders you might think being a chair is somewhat boring but it does have its lighter moments. In addition to receiving a range of pressures, weights and so on as patients come and go occasionally we have to support magazines. I don’t know why a table isn’t enough but often patients pick up a magazine and then – it must be tired – put it down on a chair. I did ask one of the magazines why it was on me but – stupid thing – it gave no answer. These inanimate objects – have they no desire for progress? They come into our room and don’t bother to even learn the language. If I had my way I’d send them all pack home to the paper mill!
I remember one winter week there as a leak in the surgery. Luckily it was not I under the drip, drip but my friend Oak. He had quite a puddle before anyone noticed. What a kerfuffle when the dentist saw the water though! He risked life and soul to move us away from the leakage and then called in ‘workmen’. They must be certain kind of human as all brought with them sandwiches and seemed to be wearing jeans that were to short – certainly a large amount of their rears seemed to be showing! It was nice of Mr. Dentist to move us though – it shows a degree of caring.
And that’s how I started this little monologue – about caring. Just as the dentist saved us so we are happy to provide a service. You won’t hear any of us moaning, we just stay their motionless ready to be sat on. There is deep serenity in distancing oneself from all life’s processes. In ancient mythology we hear of one Superchair that has electric wires running through it. I gather they have one in America. His mission though is different though – to serve humanity by taking life. Me? I’m happy just to be here, waiting. Some of my younger cousins have started up a business ‘Bums 4 Us’ and I gather they’re going down a storm in Slimmers clubs.
I have to stop these meanderings now as I have just front door closing. Who will it be today? Mrs. Boneybum or Fatjack with his packet of doughnuts? He seems to be here a lot, always sucking sweets or eating sugary things. When will he learn? Ah, I see who it is Mrs. Wordcount. That means I must
definitely stop as she is not to be trifled with.
I’ll sit here, waiting. Perhaps Mr Kafka will be in soon – I could do with some empathy.