I am sitting on a hydraulic gas filled Herman Miller black and walnut chair. I’m sorry. I lied. It’s a knock off.
As I slide into the faux leather seat, I realize my son set the chair to its maximum height.
There is very little room between my knees and the bottom edge of the narrow DIY butcher block pub table from Target.
As I lean back to think, my chair, in almost a Quigi board way slowly rotates in a circular motion to the right, and then stops at what might be the letter A or V, depending on how you see two corners of a wall coming together.
As I resist twist myself back, I press my feet on the metal foot rest and force my palms against the counter to fight the chair from independently escaping. At just the right moment, I slide my hand gently down the shiny metal and clumsily lift the black plastic lever so that I may gradually lower the seat but instead I experience a sudden drop in air pressure! I expect to hear a pilot say ” ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain speaking. Looks like we got some turbulence up ahead and expect a bumpy ride. So we’re going to put on the fasten seat belt sign and ask you to return to your seats.”
But today, there was no pilot- no warning- just a sudden drop….a very sudden drop.
