My chair shame.
My chair shame.
Until last night it had been a while since I broke a chair. Having destroyed seating in Pete’s flat and two separate gites I should have realised my chair-breaking days were not behind me.
Last night I felt the chair go a while before the break ‘went public’. I thought it was simply that the crossbar had come out on one side, though, and continued to sit on it, just not moving very much. Unfortunately I was wrong - there was a great big crack at the top of one leg and leaning forward enthusiastically I caused it to break entirely. Cue one wrecked chair and one Tom sitting on his arse on the pub floor.
The staff - who could quite legitimately have blamed it on drunkenness and kicked me out - were very nice about it and found me another chair. I had drunk enough to not be properly shamefaced. I suppose in pub etiquette terms it’s similar to accidentally breaking a pint glass, but it’s a question of degree really.
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