Comfy Chair

Sit down my friend this is going to take a while. I could tell you stories, if you would only listen. I grant you, you stood there a bit longer than most. The youngsters these days do not want anything to do with an old fossil like me. Well except one but lets not talk about him. You are still standing there come on sit down and relax and let me tell you a story. I promise I cut it short. But you got to know it does not do your ego any good if you are only left on the side on the road. Nothing more than neglect. In my prime you would have heard people scream about the abuse inflicted on a masterwork. I was the run of the town, well traveled and well cared for most of my life. You must know, these days I am a rarity. But do not tell him that. I rather rot here in the rain than to give him the satisfaction of a good deal.

Why are you still standing? Sit! After the factory the first thing I remember was an exhibition. I was first off the line and have been showcased in over fifteen towns in the Netherlands. No that does not make me a cheap piece it makes me unique. My first fifteen years I spent needlessly in the study of an architect, I would have rather been in his bedroom there seemed to be the action. The books in the study were merely show, guess so was I. Probably he should have paid more attention to his business and less to the knickers of his changing female companions. In the end I got sold off during his fore-closer. Already quite demeaning but the price I fetched was again an honor. Twice my sales price, someone noticed my unique qualities.

Ten years of hell followed, I wished myself back to the manufacturer floor or even in a shipping box. For ten years I had to endure that old royal ladies babble with her cat and support her fat cheeks when she was knitting or watching TV and knitting. I cursed the grandson who bought her a new flat-screen TV. Let’s just say the last three years were even more hellish. Luckily for me she found her end on the other throne of the house and luckily for her the cats didn’t get in. That is what you call a provenance, like a real painting, I have history. After the will of the lady has been read I was inherited by her daughter and that felt good somehow.

Yet it did not last very long, I wasn’t even brought in to my new home only kept in the garage of her condo. It seemed I did not fit in to her interior design and was quickly handed down to her son. Well what can I do? I did not complain and it was not that bad; a mixture between boring- cheek-holding but thanks to the limited space I finally saw some action and even assisted with a few beautiful nights. Even if I do say so myself it is the truth “I am comfy and versatile”.

Would it not feel good to sit down and recline? Are you not tired from walking the city? I am not quite finished yet you know. After the grandson has developed a cocaine addiction I got quickly sold off for a bargain not that this improved my self-image but I was glad for the change of scenery. My new owners were in turn owners of a vintage shop. They understood their business. I was cleaned reupholstered and varnished their sales window for a few months till I got sold again. The price I fetched this time around was not worth mentioning.

I was wondering where I would end up this time. When I realized that it would be the smoking’s lounge of a hipster coffee shop I tried to collapse immediately or at least be more uncomfortable, but I can’t deny my existence I am a comfy chair. All the care and the work people put in to me was going to be wasted by some tourist who barfs on me. You could sit down that did not actually happen! It was just my worst case scenario. It was not that bad, at least it did not get boring for a few years. I had a good change of cheeks and all I had to endure was some secondhand smoke. Now you see why I still feel pride, I have seen and experienced a lot in my life and I am not looking too bad for all this history I carry with me. I grant you my green leather is abraded and wrinkly, but soft to the touch, some of my springs might be broken but as you could tell if you would sit on me they are non screechy and my upholstery is compacted just at the right places.

Now what am I ? Street decoration and maybe a subject for a photographer like yourself. I wonder do you see the stories behind your pictures? I am flattered of course that I would be in the focus of your attention but I start to wonder what fascinated you about me? And will your image do justice to my history? For sure you are not here to relieve me of my blight as street decoration. Let me cut myself short here, the coffee shop closed down as well and one of the owners claimed me as his own, I was dumped on this bicycle trailer. That was five months ago! You know what kind of weather we had? It was winter then. I had to endure snow, ice, rain and wind. There was more than one drunkard or stoner who took a nap on me and my new owner seemed to regret that he liberated and even under these conditions I prevailed.

Now look at me!

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