Trois Chaises (Triptych, 2026)

There are three chairs in my apartment (actually 4, if you count my desk chair. Or 6, if you count the chairs at the kitchen table. or 8, if you count the barstools. Or 9, if you count the couch. Or 10, if you count the toilet. Or-). Two of these chairs are new additions, as earlier in the year I had a conversation with my sister that made me realize I need a lounge chair, somewhere to relax.. It has been a journey, but I’m happy to announce that I’ve gotten a new chair!

1. Black Office Chair.

This chair I got early in my move to Arizona. I started playing the bass guitar, but I noticed if I wanted to sit down, I couldn’t sit at my office chair to play because it has arm rests, and the bed was awkward because I would sink down. There were the barstool chairs in the kitchen, but I didn’t want to keep carrying the chair to my room and back. So I went searching on Facebook marketplace and found an office chair without arm rests and picked it up. It was lightweight so I easily moved it up the stairs, and it was adequete for it’s purpose. Sometimes, when I didn’t want to be by a screen, I’d sit on that chair and read or write or think. It was then that I realized there was an element of relaxation missing. I’d sit on the chair and because it was so rigid and upright, I felt like I had to be productive. And thus, it appeared I’d outgrown it’s usefulness, and I embarked on a quest to find a new one.

1. Soft Green Swiveling Chair.

I will start by saying I cannot and will not disclose the amount I paid for this chair. It’s not good. It’s really not. Anyway, I got this one off of Facebook marketplace. I had picked out bunch of chairs I liked and was going back and forth about it. I asked the seller if it would fit in a Camry and he said “yes, def,” so I decided hey, why not? (It had only been a week after I got my wisdom teeth out and I think the anesthesia hadn’t worn off completely, which in turn impaired my judgement.) I drove 20 minutes to the seller’s house and the chair looked alright. Green and compact and it swiveled. I tried to negotiate, and I was wearing the ice pack around my head hoping it would evoke sympathy which in turn would evoke a lower price, but he barely budged. In the end I shook his hand and we had a deal. I put the chair in my car and headed home, and noticed a smell filling up the vehicle - marijuana. This is no judgement to marijuana users but I don’t want my car to smell like that and now it smells. Like. That. But no need to worry, I can fix it! I got home and put the chair on the balcony and scrubbed it down with detergent and Oxi-Clean and sprayed it with fabric spray. Then I waited. Just 24 hours and I’d have a beautiful chair to sit on and spin on. The next day I brought the chair into my room. It was a little powdery from the Oxi-Clean but nothing a wipe down couldn’t fix. I left my room for a few minutes and when I came back, it was filled with the stench of weed. Son of a-

I turned the fan on and searched for solutions. Activated charcoal, special sprays, I even saw recommendations for generators that fill spaces with ozone to break down unscently smells (careful, don’t stay in the room as the generator does its job. It can burn your lungs and you can DIE). I went to Amazon to start ordering supplies and then I realized this was really stupid. The chair was a mistake. I put it back on the balcony so I didn’t have to see it again. And there it sits, an emblem of my wasteful spending.

My sister was talking to me about her own furniture shopping. She’s using Craiglist and other sources to thrift furniture as cheaply as possible. She got a beautiful yellow chair for $20 (maybe even less) from an auction site. In that sense, we differ. She is patient in her search and unwilling to overspend. She takes after Mom. and I guess I take after Dad - buy now, think later. I don’t know what overtook me at the Facebook Marketplace seller’s house, just handing over my hard earning money. And now I have nothing to show for it but a beat up chair. And yet, I will do it again. I will buy another Thing from the urge of impulse in the hope that it will be the Thing I Always Needed, the Thing That Will Make My Life Complete. A room full of Things Things Things.

Perhaps my desire for the material was formed in my youth. As a child I did lack in Things, not a complete lack, but I couldn’t expect to get the Things I Really Wanted unless it was Christmas, and even then it was only one Thing not the Many Things I Really Wanted. I wanted the Nice Clothes and The Cool Shoes for the Cool Outfits and I wanted Video Games and iPhones and Androids and Things and Things. When I finally got a hold of money, money that was mine that could be spent on the Things I Really Wanted, I went and bought Things. And so I have the closet of clothes that are just my style and the video games and even a bass guitar. And I like many of the Things I have, yet, even with so many Things, why do I desire more? Why do I need to fill my life with Things? To heal some part of me that didn’t have the Cool Things? To prove to everyone that I can have the Cool Things? Is having the Cool Things what makes me cool? Consumerism and capitalism and materialism have done a number on my brain, or maybe it’s not an -ism, maybe it’s just me, maybe I’m just following the impulse of that inner child, she’s lonely, and maybe the next Thing I buy could relieve that, give her some comfort, turn her from Loser into the Cool Girl. Or maybe I’m just greedy.

1. Soft Gold Swiveling Chair (Or, the Comfy Chair).

After experiencing an enormous amount of frustration in my failure to procure an adequate chair, I gave up on Facebook Marketplace entirely. I deleted the app, and almost left the dream of a Comfy Chair behind, until I got a notification from Slickdeals about a “HOT DEAL!” It was a miracle: a chair, soft, velvety, swiveling, not too big, not too small, in a beautiful golden color, one that fit with the deserty hue of my room. It was pricey, but, BUT, I deserved the Thing. I placed an order for the Thing.

Two days later the chair arrived. I brought down my shopping cart and went to the mailroom. The chair was there in a big box, and it was much heavier than I expected. I thought it would be like the green chair and I could just lift to my room, but it was too heavy for me to lift. So I pushed and pushed. Once I reached the stairs, I thought, I’d put it on my shopping cart and figure it out from there. As I was huffing and puffing, a man noticed my struggle (a handsome man, I must note), and, like an angel from above, asked with deep regard: “Do you need help with that?”

The man hauled the chair onto the cart and step by step, brought it up. He offered to bring it to my door, but I felt bad and said I could handle it from there. “Do you take Cashapp?” I asked, but the man just shook his head. “No, that’s alright,” he said, walking off into the sunset. Very humble!

I set up the chair in my room and sat down. As I began to swivel, I felt my tensions release. The comfy chair was what I needed, an oasis in the desert, a meditative space, soft and spinning like the planet Mars, and I was so happy. My favorite moments with the comfy chair have been my mornings. I get up early, put together a bowl of cinnamon flavored oatmeal, and read. Sometimes for half an hour, sometimes for five minutes. It was a respite from the inevitable terror of the office. A place for thinking, a place for reflection. I do not labor in my comfy chair.

Did I even need a comfy chair to do the things I really want to do? Yes, yes I do think so. So much time I’ve spent adjusting the world around me to increase my productivity. Go to the office, clean my room, get a monitor, maybe get two. Why not curate relaxation? Rest and work should hold equal importance in my life.I do want to sit and think and dissassociate in a round, bowl-like chair. Like I’m incubating my brain, pretending my life is not ruled by a screen. Really, the comfy chair is my one escape. Nobody expects productivity while you’re spinning. Or maybe, the spinning is the productive part. A centrifuge uses rapid rotation to seperate substances. Maybe this chair is a centrifugal force, seperating the necessary from the unnecessary. And when I awaken, I can shed myself of the waste. Just like spending a day in the sun - nature’s autoclave. I am engaging in a cleansing to become a more efficient machine.

I think this comfy chair is the last missing piece in my space. Of course, until I find something else I must buy.