Ka-thunk. I knew exactly what the sound meant, although I could hardly believe it. I was there To moveand I drove a small handful of my things – including my (and my cat) pink player chair– to my new place in a U-Haul truck. Except that the chair wasn’t in the truck anymore. It was at a crowded intersection behind me. As I watched the carnage, my cheeks turned paler pink than the chair.
Fortunatly nobody was hurt. The chair fell to yout of the truck and landed in the middle of an intersection, but not on people or cars. Good thing too; my chair, a Overwatch-themed Secretlab Titan, is built like a tank, and it could probably go head-to-toe with a truck if it got enough of a takeoff. The second my chair hit the floor, the horns of the cars began to honk, as if they had instinctively understood that they had just avoided death. In response to that, I cursed many, many times. I’m not sure exactly how many people stared, but suffice it to say: a lot.
As I stormed out of my hastily run over U-Haul, I wondered how this could possibly have happened. The back of the truck was firmly locked, the hook mechanism locked – at least I thought. Perhaps my chair had separated from the boxes holding it in place and turned into some kind of battering ram. Perhaps after plowing in the door several times, it pushed loose the hook mechanism, which allowed the door to open centimeters at a time. So my chair could slip out of my back like a thief in the night. Or a light pink chair. In broad daylight.
When I got to where my chair landed, it was no longer there. Three people had packed it and rolled it onto a street corner to prevent it from being run over or blocking the flow of traffic. I was grateful for that until I saw who those people were: teenagers. I don’t hate teenagers in general, but in this particular situation they raised a myriad of problems. As I approached, their young, wrinkle-free faces glowed with runny nose and smear. They tried to hide it, but nothing could suppress the joy they felt when they saw an adult adult embarrass themselves in just that way. I also knew that as a teenager they probably realized not only that a bearded 32-year-old was walking to a player’s chair, but that it was a player’s chair that revolved around a fictional Korean teenager from a contested competitive shooter Overwatch. they knew exactly how humiliated i felt
“I probably should have made sure the door was closed,” the lead teen chuckled as I took my chair back. The other two stood behind him, grinning like baby lions trying to enjoy the meat of an old, slow gazelle.
I wanted to explain to them that I was would have made sure the door was closed – even double checked! I wanted to add that I had taken all necessary precautions, but fate is a joy killing joke and in 10 or 20 years it will rob them of as much life and dignity as it does me. Instead, my eyebrows rose against my permanently furrowed forehead as I smiled politely and said:
“Thank you very much!”
Then I turned my chair away at what felt like the speed of light, but was still too slow to keep the encounter from forever. I could feel her eyes follow me. I had just given them the best moment of their short existence, and I had to say thank you you for this.
There is no way any of the teenagers have not seen this on camera. Somewhere out there, a TikTok of my chair hits the sidewalk and I’m not entirely cool. Let’s hope it never goes viral because of me. Imagine getting out in front of it like my chair did on so many cars.