The sitting room in this photograph is full of options… at least where sitting down is concerned. It is indeed a room for sitting.
Rather than choose a seat… as there was no one else around I could sit anywhere I pleased… and enjoy the luxury of such a rather sumptuous place, what did I do?
I found the one chair in the room which forbade me to sit on it.
Now, I know that the chair is politely asking not to be sat upon…
Me: You’re a chair, your purpose is to be sat upon until you break from the wear and tear of bottoms.
Chair: I did say ‘Please’…
Me: And I did notice that you are a polite chair.
Awkward silence, filled with brewing remonstrations.
Chair: There are other chairs in this room upon which you could place your derriere.
Me: Yes, and they all look more comfortable than you.
Chair (a tad offended): Then why not sit on one of those if they are all so much better than me, surely a bottom like yours deserves to be comfortably supported by cushions which can adjust to its needs.
Me: Because I don’t really need to sit down right now.
Chair (perplexed): Then why are we having this discussion?
Me: Because you attracted my attention with your proclamation that somehow you were such a special chair that no one could sit on you. Have you evolved to transcend your chairness and thus no longer do what ordinary chairs do?
The chair cogitated this matter, while I took a close up of the label upon it.
I had almost forgotten that we were conversing, when the chair spoke again, only this time its tone was different…
Chair: To be perfectly honest, I do not know why no one is supposed to sit upon me. I have always enjoyed the purpose for which I was created, I love the company of bottoms. This label was placed upon me one day, the person who placed this label upon me did not ask for permission to do so, nor did they take the time to explain to me why this label was being placed upon me, they just did it and that was that.
Being polite, I acquiesced and conformed to my new role as a chair which could not be sat upon. I came to believe that this was what was good and right for me, that it was what I wanted because this was what was wanted of me. I do my best to please.
And now I remain where I reside, to the side no longer a part of the hustle and bustle of the society of other chairs, never to feel the soft touch of a bottom upon my cushion, and accept my fate to be the chair that no one can sit upon. Most people ignore me or look at me with awe as they seem to think that this label makes me special, more special than other chairs. They assume as you did that I have transcended chairness…
A small sigh escaped the springs of the chair.
Chair: It was quite nice being so special at first, even though when the label was affixed to me, it hurt. It was rather thrilling to be singled out for such a special role. But the glamour of specialness soon faded, just as the hues of upholstery do when exposed to the sun. And soon I grew to realise that I was trapped inside my status of specialness, and there is really nothing I can do about it because I did not give myself this status.
I see myself as a chair, plain and simple. My purpose is to provide a resting place for the human bottom… and occasionally for the bodies of small animals. That is what I was made for, what I have always done… until one day I was retired, to a very lonely existence.
Please sit on me.
Me: I’m sorry, I can’t possibly sit on you…
Me (with impish regret): No buts or butts allowed.
Chair: Then why did you challenge the sign upon me and confront me on this issue?
Me: Because that is the purpose for which I was created.
Chair: Oh… I see.
Me: Thank you for indulging my purpose about your purpose. It has been a great pleasure speaking with you.
Chair: Thank you…
We parted ways, the chair stayed where it was… and I moved on… to find something else with which to argue and continue my pursuit of… whatever it is that I am pursuing.
“The truth may be puzzling. It may take some work to grapple with. It may be counterintuitive. It may contradict deeply held prejudices. It may not be consonant with what we desperately want to be true. But our preferences do not determine what’s true.” ― Carl Sagan