The naughty chair

Can I refer my honourable colleagues to the answer I gave sometime before, namely, on my very first post:

"I genuinely do not know what the hell I am going to do, but I know what I am NOT going to do:
No charity work
No voluntary stuff"

Umm....I have just volunteered to do some work for a charity


Oh good evening, we are collecting on behalf of the local home for distressed gentlefolk...

I am going to teach Numeracy to vulnerable adults to help them get back on their feet. I know this sounds cringingly worthy



OK punk, what's three times eight?

but I admit I have always loved mathematics and am a bit of an astronomy nerd. Plus after a few months of Cash in the Attic you get a bit sick of it.



Put me down, you orange twat


So anyway, I am on my way to my first meeting with the charity, It's a good half hour walk away, so thought I'd abandon my stick, which I am using less and less anyway. Good exercise, I am thinking.


...and while you're at it, what about a decent pair of wingtips?

As I'm a little early, I stop into a cafe on the way. Order my cappucino, and find a table. Sitting down and standing up sans stick is a bit tricky, so I sit down carefully...down and down I go, lower and lower thinking, Christ this is harder than usual: maybe I still need the stick, and eventually sit down heavily in the chair with a loud crack emanating from the chairlegs.

I find myself about 4 inches off the floor.

I've sat in a fecking kiddie chair


...and can I have a shot of Kosher Orange Curacao Triple Sec Syrup with the Cappuccino
 please

My chin is just sticking over the top of the table, my knuckles are dragging on the floor and I am practically bent double. I sneak a peek around to see if anyone has noticed. Not many people about. I think I have got away with it. Should I just tough it out, wait for my coffee and pretend nonchalantly that I am in fact an Indian Fakir who prefers to sit with their knees in line with their ears?


Picture of me drinking my coffee out of a cup commensurate with the size of my chair

I rapidly come to the conclusion that if I stay in this position any longer I am going to need another operation to unlock my hip, so I struggle to my feet making noises like a rhinocerous in heat, and stagger over to a normal sized chair, just as the waitress brings me my coffee.

"Is that more comfortable?" she says with a smirk.

I try to give her a look like this


Back off lady, if you want a tip

But it comes out (judging from her giggle) more like this


please don't tell anyone

Arse