April 29, 2026
One week later and I can
report that our outing of last Wednesday was a success! New chair and new shoes
have been acquired. And David chose to have lunch at a British-style pub restaurant
that serves Guiness, and Stella (neither of which he would be interested in, as
he is a recovering alcoholic and has been sober for more than forty years. I,
on the other hand will have a Stella on occasion, but only if I am absent pain
meds in my system and not driving. Yes, a rare thing indeed, but as usual, I
digress.) This pub-restaurant also serves traditional British Pub Fare and have
the best fish and chips!
Our first stop, of course, was
the store that held the second-largest collection of office chairs available to
us.
They were also the friendliest
to our budget—but rest assured. That didn’t prevent met from overshooting the
figure I’d envisioned as my goal in the end.
To be fair to myself, while
the selection of chairs was large, there was a limiting factor I had never once
considered. And that factor was the depth of the chair’s seat.
I am short. Shorter now than I
was even ten years ago. In my prime I was 5’1”. I am now 4/9”. Yes, my arms are also short. My daughter keeps
threatening to buy me that T-shirt featuring a T-Rex, with the caption: If you’re
happy and you know it clap your….oh.
I had compensated for this in
the last chair I’d been using before my new one arrived on Saturday; the old
chair wore a lumbar cushion, which took a good three inches of chair bottom.
Most of the chairs I tried out
last Wednesday require me to boost myself further into the chair so that my
butt would meet the angle created by the meeting of chair bottom and back. This
left me feeling uncomfortable in that my feet did not reach the ground.
This is not a problem in and of
itself; I do have an adjustable footrest, have had one for years, and have found
it very handy for those moments when my arthritic knees are in need of relief.
A couple of the chairs I tried
out last Wednesday had such deep seats that not even a footrest would help, as
my knees were actually on the seat!
So there were a smaller number
of chairs that would qualify right from the get-go for me. I was partial to
those that had the lumbar cushion already built in. I didn’t want a seat that
would let me sink; I needed a chair to support me over hours while I write, not
encourage me to take a nap. In the end the one I chose also had a heater/massager
function. Not something I considered or looked for, but a bonus, I suppose.
I’ll let you know after the
first time I use it on purpose, as opposed to using it to ensure I knew how to and
that it worked.
David tried the first chair he
saw, one on sale, and he loved it. He closed his eyes in bliss, made happy-body
sounds and I said, “Well, that was fast. Sold.” He immediately stood up and channeled
his late father and said, “I’m not buying the first one I see!”
So I gestured toward the
veritable sea of chairs, inviting him to have at it.
It took a while to get someone
to assist us; I don’t want to be waited unnecessarily, but I wanted to find
what I needed as quickly as is reasonable, and to do that I first needed the
assistance of someone who, hopefully, knew their stock.
The young man who came over
didn’t (know his stock) but he was willing to check for whatever, and so I was grateful
for his assistance.
I like to consider myself a
logical person. I had reasoned in preparation for this excursion that since the
population of our area consisted of a high percentage of older folks, I would
have no problem having the staff of this store assemble and then deliver our
new chairs. I had even factored that sum I would inevitably pay into my budget.
Do you know that not every
establishment has logical rules?
They, that is the corporate
entity known henceforth as the store, could assemble the chairs, for a fee. They
could deliver the chairs for a fee. They just simply could not do both—not no
how, not no way.
David’s father once more took
over his mouth with a demand to speak to the manager, but I was the more
reasonable of us and got him to hush. I do understand that the solution to the
problem is beyond the pay grade of anyone at the store level.
We finally agreed to have them
assemble our chairs—and when they were ready, our grandson would bring his grandfather
back to the store in his pick-up truck to collect the chairs.
And in case you were wondering,
David did indeed end up buying the first chair he’d seen. And I was kind, and
didn’t bother to mention that, unlike his late father, he almost always does.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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