Arrangements

The three men enter. The whitewalls and carpeted floor, clean and sober, invite them to relax.

Did they change tables? The shortest of the three says.
No, same table, the tallest replies.
The chairs are, different, the first says.
Same chairs.

Unsure and apprehensive, trying to decide whether to consult the librarian whose short auburn hair and thin glasses present an approachable face, the short man eyes the black chairs and runs a stubby finger over the back of one.

I’m not sure, he says.
Have a seat, the tallest replies.

He sits.

I suppose, I guess they’re the same, yes. He leans back as far as the chair will go. That’s better.

Yeah they’re the same. The tallest man sits as well. Their half-tall, half-short friend stands behind his chair.

The fabric, always the same, scratchy fabric, it’s not a big deal. He raises his hand and rubs his fingers together as though checking for dust. I hate this color.

Yep, the short man agrees, content to stare at the ceiling, his fingers locked behind his head.
The ceiling…
It’s not so bad, the tall man says.

I have this magazine, well it has all these, office supplies. I don’t know, these chairs. Are okay. He tosses the glossy book onto the table; it slides toward the short man.

Why do you have this, he asks.
I don’t know, I thought…
Let me see it. These are all the same; I bet they’re the same.
Nono, they’re different, look. He points. These chairs are all different!
Settle down! He stands and slams his fists on the table. His tall frame is staggering. The mid-height man sits slowly.

The short man spins in his chair, humming some light-hearted tune. He stops and points at his lankier counterpart.

You, need to think about the chairs. I’ve made my decision.
I’m standing.
You can’t stand for the whole meeting.
I can.
Well, in the event that you decide to sit, I think that you should seriously consider this new model.

He reaches for the magazine.
The other man nudges it toward him.

I don’t think it’s a big deal.
It’s not, it’s not, I just—
Hold on. The tall man puts up a finger and reaches his free hand into his pocket. It’s Jim. Jim, JIM, I’m putting you—I’m going to put you on speakerpho—what? Hold on. He’s breaking up—you’re breaking up Jim. I’m putting him on speakerphone.

He sets the phone on the table and sits.

I’m going to ask Jim about the chairs. Jim, JIM, hey I got a—
Just hold on okay, give me a second. He fumbles with his phone.
Oh, you just press the blue button, well, it’s aqua, it’s, ok…
Yeah, yeah, Jim? He’s not answering.
Can I see it, it’s just, it’s right there by the—
Hey, let me ask him about the chairs.
I’m pressing it, Jim, fucking phone, Jim, I think I got it, JIM.

The short man spins in his chair again. You hear that? It’s squeaky, mine’s squeaking.

Guys? The voice crackles.
Hey Jim! It’s Guy, listen—
Hi! Hi there!
Hey, so yeah—
Hey is Manny there?
Yeah, I’m here; check this out…the new T-43 comes with dual double-reinforced armpads, a twist resistant swivel—
Are you—what—talking about?
Jim you’re breaking up, listen I’m just going to start—
--twist resistant swivel mechanism—
Guy—connection—going to—few minutes. The phone hums a low note.

Well way to go Manny.
I was just—
It’s not his—it’s not your fault Manny. The middle-height man blushes.
It’s weird, Jim not being here. His wife I mean—he’s got a lot to deal with.
The world doesn’t stop spinning, just because someone wants it to, you know—
I’m going to get him a chair. The short man jumps up and leaves; his chair spins slowly without him.
Get him a…? He rubs his forehead and looks at the other man.
Maybe we can—I don’t know, maybe we can settle this chair thing.
With what? He won’t stop.
Just, just take a look at the magazine. He pushes it toward him. I mean—
I’ve seen a chair, I mean; I’ve seen plenty of chairs. A chair is a chair.
He gets pretty excited about the chairs, some—
Yeah, listen, go out there and see what he’s up to.
I just think—
Uh huh, I know, I hear you, I really do. I just think it’s best if you—if we get a move on and I’m gonna try to get Jim back. Talk to the girl at the counter.

He tears a corner from the back of the catalog and walks out of the room; the tall man walks his fingers along the table to the phone. Flicks it, spinning it a half turn then slams his palm over it. Fucking chairs, he says.

The stout man returns, wheeling a chair in front of him like a child pushing a wagon. He leaves it at the end of the table nearest the door.

There we go, see I figure if Jim were here, then he wouldn’t be in California and he’d probably be tired from the ordeal and he’d want somewhere to sit…this was the best one I could find.
They’re the same.
Well there was this one—
I’ll be right back, try dialing Jim. The tall man leaves as the other returns.

Listen Manny, I was trying to find you, I mean, I was out there—
Hey what do you think about this one? He flips the magazine around and sets his finger on one of the pictures.
That one is pretty nice; I talked to the librarian—
Yeah, hey where was Guy going? What’s his problem today?
Oh, I mean, I don’t know.
I like the color, it says black but it’s more of a, like a dark purple—
I don’t know.
Maybe it’s just the photo.
Yeah, It’s a nice—those are some nice chairs huh? Hey these chairs—
Anti-lock lift system? Well I’ll be, anti-lock huh.
Is that a special feature or, well I don’t know—
A hundred-fifty thread count polyester blend backrest fabric?
Some chair, sounds like some kind of chair there.
I got to get one, we should get a whole set, get a discount, I’m gonna show this to Guy.

It’s just a damn chair Manny! The tall man finishes his statement before fully entering the room. He slams a sheet of grayed paper on the table. Read it! He motions to the average-sized man—read it!

It’s a little blurry, I mean, I guess I can try—
It’s a photocopy, it’s supposed to be blurry, it’s just a goddamn chair Manny!
Chair, noun: A piece of furniture consisting—
Look at this, look at this chair, triple axle smooth riding polycarbonate wheels.
consisting of a seat, legs, back and often arms—
I gotta get one of these! He scans the page with his finger.
often arms, designed to accommodate one person. Huh.
You hear that? Manny? Were you listening? Son of a bitch.
You want me to keep reading?
It’s just a chair, you sit in it, when you don’t want to stand anymore.

The phone buzzes across the table.

Hello? Jim, JIM?
Guy, shit man, terrible service back—had to let you go. You out of breath?
Hey, no, I’m just excited about the—
Ah, you sound tired—this deal then, where do we stand?
Jim! I got you a chair, buddy, you don’t have to stand! The tall man shoots him a look. What? It was a joke.
Is that Manny? Hey—doing these days?
He’s fine, fine, he’s real excited too, listen man I have a real good feeling—
You talking to me?—or Manny?
You, you Jim, listen this is going to work out—
Hey—I’ve been—long time—bunch of guys here—told them about you.
What’s that? I’m losing you. He stands up and shouts into the phone. No one else Jim, I told you no one else!
--Business Guy, it’s business—ripping me off—don’t know, I’m going—tough—right now.
I know, we all know.
Where’d you get this magazine? This is great stuff; I got to get one of these—
Manny! Shut up!
What’s that? Hey—want to stay cool—keep in touch—asshole. The phone lights up and hums.
Fuck Manny! God damnit.

The mid-height man finishes reading the paper to himself. He takes out the torn corner, circles something on the paper and flips it over to write on the back.

Sorry, jeez, I was just trying to say, these chairs are pretty cool. I think you should seriously consider—
Take your fucking chairs and…He leaves the room, sending his chair into the wall behind him.

The phone buzzes and the tall man reenters. He checks the phone—a text message.
I hope you’re happy. He throws the phone at the stout man’s feet. The screen reads: No hard feelings its just business.

The short man keeps reading the magazine, nodding to himself. He spins in his chair.
Hey can I keep this?
Yeah, I mean, I don’t mind—um let me see it?
Suresure. He slides it across the table.

The man opens to the last page and slips the ripped piece back inside. He looks up to see if it went unnoticed. The short man is leaned back, looking at the ceiling.

I don’t know, this chair feels different—you think they switched them?
I don’t know.
Hmm, it’s squeaky, I don’t remember it being this loud, maybe it’s just me?
Maybe—I just wanted to see if something was there—here.
Hey thanks man, I’m gonna get one of these I think, great catalog. Nice chairs.