Sad shoes and stolen seats.
June 16th 2010
So who is that mysterious masked masticator, you ask?
What you're looking for is a story in itself, but I thought I'd give you the picture first. You see, About eight years ago I purchased a singularly awesome chair. This hot on the heels of my previous chair which I'd bought a day before. That's right, I bought a new office chair and it broke in a day. A DAY. One could say it's 'cause I'm a tubby bitch, but honestly I'm kind of rough on chairs, I suppose.
I should've stole the chair I used at A.D.T. before they laid us all off, huh? But anyway, I bought a chair with a plastic bottom support, and one of the legs cracked the third time I sat on it. So what I did was, I went back and got a new one... one with a steel base. STEEL, suckers. It was a nice chair, and it seemed to stand up to my plopping into it all exhaustively at the end of many a work day.
When you work until 4 A.M., you tend to do that.
But ultimately it, too died. Not because of the steel base, but because of cheap-ass welds made on the bits that hold the base to the chair proper. They were slowly breaking, so I had to brace the chair with random steel objects laying around the house (we oddly had several handy) or else it would consistently 'sag' to one side. Or it'd just tumble me out of it. Or both, depending on how the chair 'felt' that day.
So we eventually got another. Well, by 'we' I mean the Sexy Other bought a new office chair and gave me hers. So having a new chair, I had to bid my old chair adieu, and I transported it out to the dumpster. Now, normally they frown on this sort of thing but every goddamn time I take out the trash I see an entertainment center or a mattress or tires or sex toys or whatever in there, so I wasn't too worried.
Fast forward two days.
I'm getting out of the apartment to do something (I forget what by now, this was a while ago), and I see some dude backing out of the apartment door across the street, seemingly moving something furniture-like. Well, I look at said furniture and I couldn't help but notice that it looked awfully familiar. In fact, it not only looked like my old chair but it WAS my old chair. But what was this man doing with my chair?
He was taking it to the dumpster. News flash for you, slack ass: if the chair with the SOLID STEEL BASE was still awesome, I wouldn't have thrown it away. I would have in fact kept it in my office, and not parked it out by the dumpster. Perhaps you should keep in mind that people usually put furniture in the dumpster when they've used it up. Or it's full of bed bugs. Or crack, maybe.
Fucking goombah.
Apparently he noted the same problem I was having with the chair - or perhaps it spilled him out while he was masturbating to clown bestiality porn and ruined the moment. I dunno. But there he was, repeating the walk of shame I took just two days earlier, so I laughed. I laughed and laughed, and I then took his picture. I don't think the masticator there was too happy with that, but fuck him.
Stupid so and so. Dumpster Diving = Bad. Although on hindsight, I probably should've taken the chair apart and salvaged that steel base. I bet I could've got at least five bucks for that. Although apparently in Dayton they drop off old artillery shells at their scrapyards, or the places just spontaneously combust and fill the entire city with toxic ash. So perhaps I'm better off having not bothered.
But you know, hindsight and all that.