Posted in broken, dinner, food, furniture, games, humor, relationships

The Chairs Have Turned

In my early days of getting to know my partner-in-crime, I invited him for dinner one evening. We sat at my round marble bistro table and ate spaghetti with marinara and grated cheese.

We started talking about the game “Worst-Case Scenario.” It gives real life examples of weird and wild things happening. I suggested we make up our own.

He suggested a scenario, then I said I had one.

Just at that moment, there was a loud noise, and my table split in two. His plate of spaghetti and sauce flew off the table and fell kerplat onto his lap. Spaghetti flew everywhere.

Fast forward sixteen and a half years. We were playing cribbage on his table. I sat on his folding chair, which I had sat on many a time over the years. Suddenly, there was a loud noise. His chair had collapsed beneath me.

We were even now.


I am a rather obscure 14th C. poet, whose work has been translated into over thirty dialects of gibberish. I now spend my days translating from the gibberish into English and back again, as need be.

2 thoughts on “The Chairs Have Turned

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