NormThe Chair of the Board (2006)
Yawns and shakes head.
See there I go.
Folds arms.
If I dare laugh it will send shockwaves through the boards.
Yawns.
I dare not.
Nods off and wakes.
You have to get up pretty early in the morning to go to work but before that make me laugh.
Sniffs.
You’d be hard pressed to get a few vowels delivered in succession from me.
Excavates nose.
Stony faced as I am.
Examines artefacts.
I have to be careful to whom I lease to.
Leans forward and rubs hands.
So, an intimate evening – it is isn’t it?
Pauses.
Evening?
Nods head.
Intimate, no doubt.
Cleans tongue with teeth.
Nothing to fear.
Looks down at the chair.
The chair would like to say a few words but it can’t.
Sits up straight.
It’s being oppressed by a violent one-eyed dictator.
Fiddles with cuffs.
Never has four legs been so obedient.
Pats the chair.
Good chair.
Indicates with an index finger to sit.
Sit.
Pulls hand away.
Wait, I am.
Stretches legs considerately.
Leg stretch.
Yawns.
When will this interminable crap commence or conclude.
Sighs.
I can’t tell.
Grimaces.
I know but I can’t tell.
Holds grimace.
That can’t be good.
Winces.
Negativity sours my experience.
Flippant.
Bugger it.
Irritated.
This experience is souring my outlook.
Nods head gently.
I must remain vigilant.
Looks about the place.
Do we know if it’s started?
Pumps legs up and down.
Waiting and watching.
Stops.
Masochists.
Taking stock.
Some wankers.
Scans the members.
Wankers: you know who you are.
Sympathetic.
Accusatory isn’t it?
Sees something above.
What’s worse being one or being labelled one?
Tries to identify the something.
Self-slaughter is a misplaced term.
Resigns to ignorance.
Wanking’s a far cry from killing yourself.
Stares at the floor.
If you are a wanker or you’ve been labelled one don’t kill yourself.
Knowing.
It’s an unweeded garden that grows to seed.
Thumbs up.
Sorry green thumbs: you’re not wankers by definition.
Holds a thumb up.
If you are, it’s likely that your thumb is not the only thing that’s green.
Raises the thumb.
I above all know.
Points thumb to the side.
That’s not what’s meant by wankers, anyway.
Slams fist down on a palm.
It’s a metaphorical wank I speak of.
Holds up fist on palm.
You know who you are.
Palm closes over fist.
I can’t hardly help but digress.
Relaxes.
It’s hard to sit here like this.
Looks down where the chair meets the floor.
Concentrating.
Looks at a leg of the chair.
Concentrate.
Holds the seat of the chair.
Please do.
Holds.
I’ve done well to last this long.
Hands drop.
We all have.
Visibly listening.
Sounds like a finale.
Suspicious.
Could be.
Resigns.
Far be it from me to call it done.
Tastes mouth.
So be it.
Eyebrows raise.
Well, what a finish.
Head nods.
Justice.
Stares down blankly at 45 degrees.
End.
Claps hands repeatedly.
Looks about in surprise.
Sighs.
Gets up and exits.
The chair.
End.
See there I go.
Folds arms.
If I dare laugh it will send shockwaves through the boards.
Yawns.
I dare not.
Nods off and wakes.
You have to get up pretty early in the morning to go to work but before that make me laugh.
Sniffs.
You’d be hard pressed to get a few vowels delivered in succession from me.
Excavates nose.
Stony faced as I am.
Examines artefacts.
I have to be careful to whom I lease to.
So, an intimate evening – it is isn’t it?
Pauses.
Evening?
Nods head.
Intimate, no doubt.
Cleans tongue with teeth.
Nothing to fear.
Looks down at the chair.
The chair would like to say a few words but it can’t.
Sits up straight.
It’s being oppressed by a violent one-eyed dictator.
Fiddles with cuffs.
Never has four legs been so obedient.
Pats the chair.
Good chair.
Indicates with an index finger to sit.
Sit.
Pulls hand away.
Wait, I am.
Stretches legs considerately.
Leg stretch.
Yawns.
When will this interminable crap commence or conclude.
Sighs.
I can’t tell.
Grimaces.
I know but I can’t tell.
Holds grimace.
That can’t be good.
Winces.
Negativity sours my experience.
Flippant.
Bugger it.
Irritated.
This experience is souring my outlook.
Nods head gently.
I must remain vigilant.
Looks about the place.
Do we know if it’s started?
Pumps legs up and down.
Waiting and watching.
Stops.
Masochists.
Taking stock.
Some wankers.
Scans the members.
Wankers: you know who you are.
Sympathetic.
Accusatory isn’t it?
Sees something above.
What’s worse being one or being labelled one?
Tries to identify the something.
Self-slaughter is a misplaced term.
Resigns to ignorance.
Wanking’s a far cry from killing yourself.
Stares at the floor.
If you are a wanker or you’ve been labelled one don’t kill yourself.
Knowing.
It’s an unweeded garden that grows to seed.
Thumbs up.
Sorry green thumbs: you’re not wankers by definition.
Holds a thumb up.
If you are, it’s likely that your thumb is not the only thing that’s green.
Raises the thumb.
I above all know.
Points thumb to the side.
That’s not what’s meant by wankers, anyway.
Slams fist down on a palm.
It’s a metaphorical wank I speak of.
Holds up fist on palm.
You know who you are.
Palm closes over fist.
I can’t hardly help but digress.
Relaxes.
It’s hard to sit here like this.
Looks down where the chair meets the floor.
Concentrating.
Looks at a leg of the chair.
Concentrate.
Holds the seat of the chair.
Please do.
Holds.
I’ve done well to last this long.
Hands drop.
We all have.
Visibly listening.
Sounds like a finale.
Suspicious.
Could be.
Resigns.
Far be it from me to call it done.
Tastes mouth.
So be it.
Eyebrows raise.
Well, what a finish.
Head nods.
Justice.
Stares down blankly at 45 degrees.
End.
Claps hands repeatedly.
Looks about in surprise.
Sighs.
Gets up and exits.
The chair.
End.
