Me Dangerous Christmas Present

26 December 2011

482

R. Linda:

Ahhh, the idea of replacing an old eyesore with something sleek and modern is a perfect suggestion for a Christmas gift, or so I thought. Let me tell you how this goes. Me loft needed some refurbishing it did, so a fresh coat of paint was put on just before Christmas. The curtains were washed and rehung, furniture moved to a better layout, and Tonya gave me the colonial writing desk that had been in the loft unused (that I have coveted for the past six years). Me desk was pretty much chipped and broken (some garage sale find). I had me eye on that writing desk because a fellow reporter had his computer on one, and it has way more room, and I could do away with the extra table I had me printer on if I had it. Tonya never used the desk (it was a piece we brought up from her late Aunt's estate -- see story from 12 Nov. 2009 Fate or Coincidence), and I hinted like mad about having it in place of me rickety desk. She caved. So we moved it and got rid of the desk and printer table. It looked great except for me office chair. Yes, this chair on wheels (right there is a danger, me and self-moving furniture equal a dangerous situation) used to be this high-backed, cushioned affair, very comfy to sit in and stable. It was heavy; it did not move unless you pushed it. BUT me loft be not entirely me own. No, I share it with Mr. Kits and the dogs. This means every time I sit down in there, whether it be me office chair or the old comfy chair that be in the room as well, I am encased in pet hair. No matter what we do, we can't get all the hair up. That be beside the point I want to make, but do know me office chair was encased in cat hair in particular. The top of me chair was a bed of sorts for me, Mr. Kits. Yes, big as he is, he'd somehow get his big self, so he was straddling the top of that office chair -- because the sunlight hit it most of the day, and he does like to bake. SIGH. Not only did it serve as a hair catch, a daybed for the cat, but a cat scratching post. It was a mess it was. Here, take a look.

The only picture I have of me destroyed office chair -- not exactly picture-worthy

So as the refreshed room was shaping up, I suggested to Tonya to get me a new office chair for Christmas. I'd really like one with a low back; thus, no way would I have a cat straddling the top and pawing at me head, nor did I want one with a deep cushion, something a little less comfy so cat would not lie on it causing me to be sporting fur trousers. It had to be on casters, of course, so I could move around the desk, and Bob's your uncle, Gabe, be a happy laddie. She said great idea. The next time we are over by Staples, we should go in and look. 

Just two days before Christmas, we were at Staples, and so we took a look at their three rows of office chairs. There were cloth covered (like the one I had), leather, faux leather, stiff plastic backs, etc. Well, the one I chose was the el cheapie. A whole $29.99 on sale for $27.99. I know I be a cheap date. But it had a low, hard, thin plastic back (no way was that cat hanging off THAT), the seat was comfy, but not cushioned to the extreme the old one was (so no way would a cat be laying all over THAT), and it had wheels so I could move around. 

"Are you sure? That chair is like the bottom of the line, Gabe." Tonya pointed out.

"Yup, that be what I want, Tonya; that will do very nicely." Said I, secretly being malicious to Mr. Kits, me nemesis.

So the salesman got us a cart with the chair box attached, and off to the checkout we went. The girl behind the counter wanted to know if I wanted the year warranty on the chair. That was almost laughable, considering what it cost, but Tonya, feeling I had cheaped out on her, kicked in the extra five bucks, and it was rung up. 

"I put all those office chairs together back there," the checkout girl said.

"Oh really," said I, "may I take you home with us to put this one together? I be horrible at assembling anything."

"Don't worry, this one is probably the easiest of all of them," she said with a laugh.

For sure. So off we went, and when I got home, I had completely forgotten we had replaced the loft stairs with that spiral jobby. Yup, you try getting a heavy box up a staircase that constantly turns to your right. I had to unbox the parts because if I put the chair together, it wouldn't fit up the stairs that way, either. Oi! 

Tonya wanted the old ragged chair out before Christmas, so that meant I had to put the new one together the day before Christmas Eve. Yup, nothing like last-minute shopping for me, but I did not know what I wanted until late, so that is why (in case you are questioning me timing). So, putting that chair together was like trying to put a Tangram (a Chinese puzzle) together. Easiest one, the girl had said, well, NO, IT WAS NOT! I cursed, I threw things, I was in a mood by the time I FINALLY got the thing together, and this after I had to cart all its pieces up that staircase. THEN I had to dissemble the old one and get that down the stairs. I tell ya, I should have thought those stairs out before I let Tonya talk me into them. Everything that's up there (if ever it needs to be replaced), I will have to get up there with a blow torch and chain saw to do it!

When finally I had the old chair gone and the new chair in, I was extremely pleased. We thought for the best placement of the furniture, we'd move me desk so it wasn't overlooking the downstairs (where I would be distracted by boyos), AND the unsightly computer and printer wires would not be hanging over the loft floor to the ceiling below. So we moved me desk to the window. It made the rest of the loft look bigger, and we even bought a cat scratching post/cat sleep thingie that cost way more than me chair for that damn spoilt cat which looked at me like I had the unmitigated audacity to insult him with a CAT PRODUCT. Where the hell did I take HIS chair to, and why did I put that piece of cheap junk on wheels in its place? And why did I move the furniture around? He liked it the way it was. Oh, bad Gabriel!

He won't even look at me. OR the cat thingie just sulks

So this was all fine and good for me, at least until I went to sit in me new chair. First, it doesn't have arms like the old one, so to sit in it, you must take precautions or be prepared to find yourself sitting on the floor. It's like invisible hands pull it out from under you as you go to sit. I find I have to hold onto the seat and pull it under me butt, and then sit down. There is a bit of a slide backwards because of the floor sloping. I did not know there were office chair rules for a home office. I found out the hard way. The seating of oneself was the first one. Keep in mind I live in an ancient house, and nothing be plumb, the floor in the loft slopes it does.

Anyway, once seated, the chair rolled right into the loo at a dizzying speed where I was clinging for dear life to the chair seat and back before finding meself flung over the toilet bowl. Lucky for me, I didn't grab the toilet handle, or I would have flushed meself down. Rule number 2 -- keep the loo door CLOSED since the floor slopes towards the loo door, and one will be flung into the toilet if Rule 2 is not taken into serious consideration.

Once I got meself out of the loo and closed the door, I pulled meself with a great deal of effort to me desk, where I found me chair sitting pretty close to the floor. I had to get up and adjust me chair height. Once done, I carefully took hold of the seat, pulled it under me and gingerly sat down, BUT I went flying sideways where the chair spun and threw me face into the closed loo door. I thought I had broken me nose! It was twice the size it usually is, but the swelling is pretty much gone today. Anyway, I hauled meself BACK to me desk and wedged me legs under the desk, thereto anchoring the chair from moving with me in it. However, after sitting here typing, I got up for lunch (finding meself dreadfully bowed and stiff-legged, I resembled a crab on a beach), and when I came back, I went through rules 1 and 2, but this time, the chair was facing the loo door and what happened? It took off THIS TIME, hitting me knees and forehead hard against the door. Instant whiplash! I tell ya, I just can't win! I moved the desk closer to the loo wall to keep that event at a minimum.

There IT is. Looks harmless, but it's deadly

After a day of utilising (or trying to) the new chair, I went down to dinner, and me little family stopped what they were doing and just looked at me.

"What?" I asked, concerned at their concern.

"What happened? Are you all right?" Tonya said.

I didn't understand. So she told me I was black and blue, me jeans were torn at the knees, me nose looked like it had been stung by bees, me forehead was bright red like someone slapped it with a two-by-four, and me hands were raw like I had been clutching onto un-planed wood. Well, DUH! I explained about me new chair, throwing me into the loo door. Of course, this got the boyos off and running to the loft. While I was being administered first aid, I could hear the chair rolling around above me at a neck-breaking speed as one screamed, "WATCH OUT FER DA CAT!" and then a THUMP and an OWWW MEOWWWW and a tuxedo streak came racing into the kitchen and out the cat door. Then there was a bang, and we could hear the spinning of wheels and deadly quiet.

"What are you doing up there?" Tonya shouted.

"Nuthin'," was the answer.

Nothing, me arse. 

We put an end to the kid's fun, and me being body slammed against the door by purchasing a utility mat. Now the damn chair doesn't move. When you pull it out, it falls to the side and plays dead. After righting it and sitting down, it takes all the strength in me calves to move it so I can sit at me desk. I tell ya, it just never seems anything goes me way. SIGH.

Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved