The Old Man and his Seat

(five minute read)


The woman quickly sat down confident that no one would speak up. Society's rules usually prevented people from making a scene and people like her used that to their advantage. It was a simple act. Rude but not aggressive. Certainly not proportional to the events that unfolded afterwards.

The gentleman who had been sitting in the chair previously turned and saw that his seat was taken. She was a woman, but he was old. What's the etiquette here?

Patiently standing in the corner and biting his lip while he thought of his next move, the man went through various plans of action. Visions of vengeance danced through his head while his more cautious side felt safer sucking up the infraction and letting it go.

The woman pulled out a mirror and started to reapply her lipstick with an exaggerated pout and pushing out of the lips. It was the equivalent of painting a pigs ass.

As he rocked back and forth shifting his weight from one to leg to another his lips curled up slightly. A flash in his eyes was the only clue to the outside world that a plan was formulating.

The gastroenterologist was calling out number twenty three. The old man was number 49. That will be a long time in a crowded waiting room where people paced back and forth with anxious nervousness.

The man thought of his breakfast this morning. His wife had made him a special birthday meal of huevos rancheros. A rare treat he thought he could tolerate. He ate a double serving with extra garlic and crisp, greasy bacon. It wasn’t long after eating when he realized his mistake.

Because of the diverticulitis he suffered from last year he was required to use a colostomy bag. A device he hated but also welcomed as a way to save his life. Now it was full of eggs, cheese and bacon stewing alongside his morning mimosa and last nights pepperoni pizza. The contents straining the sides of the bag and testing its limits.

His plan would affect him as much as her but his vindictive nature beat out his desire for peace. With a forced casual countenance, he meandered closer to the site of the initial social infraction.

Lost in her phone the painted pig hardly noticed the man whose seat she usurped. With a quickness that defied his age, he lifted his shirt and opened his bag, ‘accidentally’ spilling the entire contents of his digested breakfast all over the ladies shiny, silk dress. Bits of bacon and slimy eggs landed in her lap along with a half liter of vile stomach bile and undigested pepperonis.

She launched out of her seat as his breakfast clung to her clothes, bare arms and face. Screams of disgust filled the room as everyone cringed away from the woman who instantly became a social pariah.

The man acted surprised and tried to feign his delight but his glee was hard to mask. The woman threw an array of curse words and epithets at the older gentleman causing the rest of the people in the room to instantly come to the mans defense. Such a barrage of obscenities weren’t deserving for such a harmless, albeit disgusting accident.

The older man played the fool and acted hurt by her harsh accusations. His fake apology convincing all but the woman who was wearing his breakfast. Other people told the lady she was a horrible banshee for attacking this kind older man who already had a tough time for having to wear such a device.

As she ran to the bathroom, he smiled and calmly sat in her seat. A well earned comfort that was thoroughly enjoyed by his tired knees and his happily contented vengeful side. His enjoyment was doubled as they called the woman's number while she was away with her futile attempt at removing the stench that was now embedded in her hair. Poor woman, he thought. It's a shame she doesn't have a seat to wait in.


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