Yesterday, I got stuck to my desk chair. Literally. Stuck.
What’s worse is that a client had just requested some of my time by e-mail, and I responded by typing the following: “Call me any time tomorrow afternoon. I will be chained to my desk trying to get something done.”
I did not mean for this desk chaining to happen, but alas, I’m me, and therefore, it did.
I was wearing a sundress, standard work attire for me in summer, regardless of its lack of professionalism and age inappropriateness. This white frock has a zip-up back with the standard hook-and-eye closure at the top of the zipper, which hit the upper middle of my back.
Concentrating feverishly on my work, I suddenly craved a glass of water. Only, when I tried to stand up, I couldn’t. My hook had grabbed the back of my mesh chair and was stuck there.
Trying to stand up meant dragging the chair with me in an awkward dance of gawkiness. No matter how I contorted myself, I couldn’t reach the hook. First, I tried one hand and then the other, wrenching my neck in the process. If I moved forward, the mesh came with me, the hook twisting at varied angles such that I could never tell exactly WHICH way it should point to disengage. I tried using both hands at once, and couldn’t grab anything at all.
For almost ten minutes, I reached, stretched, strained, struggled, cursed, swore, screamed, pulled, wiggled, mashed, pretzeled, and pushed the sodding hook. I think my entire life flashed before my eyes during those few minutes of my intense groping clumsiness.
Sweaty and still attached, I had one final dreaded thought – I was going to have to call MTM at work to come and dislodge the stupid thing. And, he was going to laugh at me for days and days and days, justifiably. All because I typed the phrase “chained to my desk.”
When I had totally given up, I had one last idea. Unzipping my dress and taking it off would at least save me from calling MTM and hearing his deep, manly laughter. With shooting pains in my neck, I managed to get the zipper about half-way down. Then, suddenly, with no warning or struggle, the hook popped away from the chair.
I was free.
At least for thirty minutes until I was stuck to my chair. Again.
21 Comments
This has to be one of the funniest posts you’ve ever written. Thank you for sharing your moments of difficulty with such humor. On the other hand, I can recognize the feel of desperation that comes from being unable to get free of the clutches of the chair-trap.
I’m just so proud of me for not telling the whole story at lunch yesterday.
absolutely too funny!!! What a great visual and MTM still gets to laugh his “Manly Laugh” after all.
Yes, MTM still laughed quite a bit over this whole sticky episode. He even offered to recreate the whole thing for the photo he took, but I said no.
I now have special visions of that dress you were wearing yesterday! And it isn’t nice to make me snort Diet Coke out through my nose. It is painful. But that was just too funny.
At first I thought you meant you had the common summer ailment of having leg flesh stuck to vinyl seats or something. But this was much better. A self inflicted version of velcro! Maybe dresses and mesh chairs should come with warnings attached.
Thank you, again, for making my otherwise mundane morning much happier.
The best comments I ever receive on this blog are ones where people say I surprised them. And, I’m sorry about your nose.
Too funny! I am shocked you sat back down in that dress. Fashion over function….I know, but I’d have been in a tank top and shorts if I worked from home! Hope your neck is better!
I almost always get dressed in work attire, even when I’m not meeting clients. It is a bad habit.
I also like to wear sun dresses even though I am hardly ever in the sun. It might mess up my almost porcelain skin. I use to be a sun goddess, but realized that it was doing so much harm that I am very careful now.
I had a problem recently where I got down on the floor to see what was in a table that we can store things in. After I found whatever it was that I wanted I tried to get off of the floor. Scooted myself to the couch, no luck. Scooted to another table, nothing. Finally, I realized that Roger was not going to come out of his office to find me on the floor and drug myself to the library table where the phone was. It is a big reproduction of the beautiful phones that we use to see in movies. I was in danger of knocking myself out if I did not do this just right because of the heaviness of this phone. I pulled it down and thankfully it landed just right. I called my sister in law to tell her to call Roger and tell him to come into the house and get me off of the floor. He didn’t laugh, but was irritated that I had done another I Love Lucy stunt and had the phone call from my sister in law scared him to death. He thought I had fallen (again) and that was the reason for being on the floor. I reassured him that I would not try this one again, at least not that day. No bruises that day. Phyllis
Phyllis, your stories are always great. This must run in families, because it sounds familiar. I’m glad that you escaped unscathed.
I also had another occasion where I was out in our “little barn” where we keep garden supplies, Christmas decorations and many more things that we never use, but don’t want to get rid of. I was heading out of the building to “stake” my tomatoes. But, fate intervened and before I knew what was happening I wound up on the floor of this building. I think I tripped on a hoe or something. I had hit my head and left shoulder on the door facing corner and then I realized that my left knee was in a precarious position underneath my body. I tried to get up, but had to wait until my head settled down a bit from the shock of falling. I eventually got up and went about my intened job of staking my tomatoes. I figured what ever damage was done was already done so why not go ahead a take care of business. I went into the house and let Roger know what had happened and when he looked at my now swollen knee he insisted that we go to urgent care to have it checked out. Turns out I did had a fracture and the doctor put me in a cast for three weeks and that is totally another story that I will not bore you with today. Phyllis
So, you’re saying that you staked your tomatoes with a fractured knee? That sounds like something Mamaw would’ve done.
LOL!!!
Definitely sitcom material.
You might want to think about tossing a towel over the back of that chair lest you end up in it’s clutches again!
I just need to remember not to wear dresses with hooks and eyes on them in this chair.
(Of COURSE, I won’t remember this lesson.)
That is allowing your sub-conscious way too much power in your life. It needs a severe talking to, and possibly a smack on the wrist!
Ha. It was fun to write from that perspective. 🙂
I am sure it was
Think about it this way: You could still be there.
I am one of those people that, if it can happen to me, it will! You’re rather brave putting your misadventures out here, in the Blogosphere. I admire you.
It is a good thing to laugh at ourselves. 🙂
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