Against Cold Steel I used to have a chair a chrome thing from the 50s with a tattered and beaten green vinyl covering. I found it with its twin in the alley behind where I live now, two doors down. It was very comfortable. Now I use one of those ergonomically correct things. It’s supposed to be better on the back/posture but to be honest it hurts my knees after a while. The old chair never made my knees sore, but sometimes my feet would fall asleep. Now my posture is good and the women all think I’m hung like a horse because I walk around with an easy, self-assured grace. I’m nobody’s fool and I know it. I miss my old chair. It had class. Sure, it was old and kind of beat up (much like myself). Maybe it wasn’t as pretty as this black metal machine with its cute, little black castors and its gray twill fabric on the seat and knee rest. But this modern chair is soul-less and has all the appeal of a clean line or a mirrored wall.
6 • Orphaned Words