My office chair is possessed, I'm quite certain. Not an inexpensive chair, it and I have been together for quite a few years now and we have never reached an agreement on how high the chair should remain. I swear that there is some live being in the chair's mechanism that lowers the chair while I am not in it.
My supposedly ergonomic chair has some kind of paddle-arm thing-a-ma-gig that I am supposed to be able to push on to lower the chair and lift up to raise the chair. I have been at odds with it since Day One. Oh, to be sure, lowering the chair is no problem. It either lowers itself or lowers instantly if my hand comes within a fraction of an inch above the paddle thing-a-ma-gig. In fact, I think it delights in being as low to the floor as possible. I have short legs to begin with and when the chair is at its lowest position, my knees can practically touch my chin.
Raising the chair is another matter. There must be something in the upper atmosphere of my office that my chair does not like. Perhaps it feels oxygen deprived....I do not know. I not only think my chair is possessed but I am certain it does not like females. When the chair has self-lowered, I can call out to Capt. SO to help me raise it and he always obliges. He sits in the chair, somehow gets his hand under the paddle thing-a-ma-gig and the chair whizzes to its highest position. When I sit it in the chair and attempt the same routine maneuver, the chair will not budge. Rather, it usually lowers itself even farther down than it is programmed to go. The only way I can get the chair to rise is to get on the floor, position myself under the chair, and push up on the paddle thing-a-ma-gig as hard as I can. It then will slowly rise to the highest position.
I do not like my chair and I do not think my chair is fond of me, either, but I refuse to coax and cajole this possessed-yet-inanimate object. If there were no-kill shelters for uncooperative office chairs, my chair would be in the Suburban this afternoon.
One of us has got to go.
Ancora imparo
