Everyday on my way home I walk past a cafe that has one gold chair in it. You can’t miss it. It’s one-of-a-kind shiny gold snakeskin faux leather. It’s by the bookshelf spilling with pre-owned books that nobody reads. The other tables and chairs are functional and boring, and usually filled with customers. The gold chair stays empty.
“I find it odd that nobody sits in it,” I said to Jasmine, my friend at work.
“Oh, it’s because nobody reads anymore,” Jasmine said.
“Like nobody sits down anymore either?” I said.
“Not in that chair, they don’t. They’d be self-conscious.”
“You mean, reading is now a self-conscious behavior?”
“If you’re not reading on a tablet, or your smart phone, you’re dated,” Jasmine said. “Nobody wants to stand out like that.”
I love to read. Real books. The kind with lots of pages crammed with words.
The next day on my way home, I made a detour and went into the cafe. I ordered an espresso at the counter, paid for it, and walked over to the gold chair. I sat down. I looked around. The other customers were engrossed in their conversations. Nobody noticed me sitting there. While I sipped my espresso, I turned my attention to the book titles. One of them caught my attention.
The book was: Historical Rumps on the Gold Chair by Sir Robert Bottoms-Up.
I laughed out loud.
A few people stopped talking to look at me.
Then the chair began to vibrate. At first I thought it was an earthquake. Nobody else seemed alarmed. The vibrations got stronger to the tickling point. I laughed louder. This time more customers stared at me. I looked around me. I was the only one experiencing this. I had a choice. To enjoy the massage or bolt.
What would you do?