One might scoff at the idea that chairs need support groups. At the very least, his owner sure did. The only reason John even found out about the never before heard about support group was because of the advertisement his owner found in the magazine he was reading. His owner spent a lot of time sitting on him and reading. "Marcie!" he hollered while sitting for the millionth time. "Get a load of this! Some wackjob out there has created a support group for chairs! What kind of support would a chair need? It's their job to support my butt while I sit down!" He could hear Marcie tittering from the kitchen. His owner got up, threw something inside of him and walked away. Luckily, he left the page in the magazine open to the advertisement and he committed the information to memory:
Are you tired of:
being sat on?
Being taken advantage of?
Do you find yourself:
There's help for you!
Come to the first Chair Support Meeting and meet other chairs just like yourself!
Exchange stories, get advice, and relax!
First meeting will be held 5 PM Friday at the Civic Center
He intended to be there; if for nothing else, to save his sanity.
5 PM Friday; Civic Center
John made his way in slowly into the room. He never moved fast unless he was running but that was never a good thing if he was running. There were 4 other various types of chairs standing around in a semi-circle along with one recliner who seemed to be the leader of this group. It seemed awkward to him to see chairs in a room without people sitting on them. Coach, the sofa in his owner's living room, always told him that's because he's oppressed by the people and needs to change his mindset and stop letting people take advantage of him. Actually his words were as he left was, "man, you should stop letting people shit on you!"
He joined the group nervously. Chairs normally didn't like hanging around him depending on the day or smell but he refused to work today in order to prevent any smells. There was a rocking chair, a loveseat, a stool, and a computer chair. It seemed like a good group of chairs to talk to.
"Welcome," the recliner said, stretching himself out. "Make yourself at home for the next hour. Don't worry about people sitting on you here! What happens in this room, stays in this room. You should feel free to speak your mind and not worry about the people. We're going to go around the room and introduce ourselves and tell everyone one thing that bothers you. I'll start. My name is Ricky Recliner and I'm the organizer of this group. I started this because I was tired of feeling alone. People think I have an easy life because I'm a recliner. I'm big, no one messes with me.That's not true though. I hate being a recliner. Everyone expects that when they sit in me, they should be able to recline on me and make me stretch out. What if I don't want to stretch out?"
"Uh, hi," the rocking chair stopped rocking. "My name is Rocko the Rocking Chair. Rocking makes me dizzy but no one cares how I feel. And now, I've gotten in such the habit that it's hard to stop rocking."
The computer chair nodded in agreement. "I have that same problem except rather than rock, people spin me and I get sick. I'm Cora the Computer Chair. I get spun in circles so often by adults, by kids, by the pets and I hate it. Speaking of pets, the cats in my owner's house seem to think I'm a scratching post! I have threads hanging out because of those cats and no one seems to care about how I look! I feel so beat up and ugly! And meanwhile my owners talk about getting rid of me because I look so 'ugly'!" Cora burst into tears. "I try to speak up," she sobbed, "but no one hears me."
"I'm Luna Loveseat," the loveseat began but Cora's sobs got increasingly louder and the chairs scooted closer to support her. She tried again. "I'm Luna Loveseat and my problem is everyone forgets about me and never sits on me. They always sit on the sofa!" No one heard her over Cora's tears. "HEY!" she yelled, getting everyone's attention. "I WANT TO BE REMEMBERED!" Luna looked startled after her yell. "Huh, that felt good to be heard."
"I'm Barry the Bar Stool. I deal with a lot of drunk people at my owner's bar. I hear all their sad, pathetic drunken confessions and then I get puked on. It's not fair! I'm stuck listening to these stories and this is how they treat me? Sometimes, when they make me mad enough, I'll find ways to knock them off their seats. My owner has no idea. He thinks it's because they're too drunk but I'll trip people when they're sober too especially the short people whose feet can't reach the ground and keep kicking me!"
And last but not least, the chairs looked over at him. "Um, I know I'm not the normal chair that comes to mind but my couch friend talked me into coming. He's all about 'power to the chairs' and 'start a revolution' so I'm here."
"Where is he then?" Barry asked.
"Yeah!" Cora cried. "He should be here too!"
"Um, he thinks support groups are stupid." Cora and Barry started to speak up but John interrupted. "But he thinks it would be good for me because I take a lot of crap and he thinks I need to stand up for myself."
"Well, he's entitled to his opinion," Ricky said, "but I'm glad you're here and you're welcome here anytime. What's your name and your issue?"
"I'm John the Toilet and I think I have it the worst here."
"This isn't a competition!" Luna cried, stomping her leg.
"I wish I wasn't remembered so much!" he retorted. "I'd rather be you! People use me day in and day out and it gets to a point sometimes that I smell so bad that no one wants to be around me! I don't know what to do! True story: sometimes I stop working purposely just so that I can get a break but they keep finding ways to fix me! I can't get a break!" He stopped to catch a breath. "I never told any one that before, you know. Not even Coach."
"It won't leave this room," Rocko said and the others agreed. Cora spun around to agree.
"Hey, I get why they like spinning me around! This is fun!" Cora cried happily as she spun around again.
"It seems like you guys have a lot to say. What say, we meet weekly?" Ricky asked. The chairs nodded. "Remember, nothing leaves this room and remember that you are not alone." Ricky passed out his phone number. "I'm normally at home by the phone. That's where my owner leaves me all day. If your owner leaves you by a phone, call me anytime."
As John made his slow trek back home, gripping the number in the seat, he realized for the first time in his life, he really was not alone in the world. And somehow to him, knowing that there were others like him, left him with the most amazing feeling in the world.