The joys of a bean bag

Sitting watching the boring travesty that is the 2010 World Cup, I realised a sudden lack of comfort coming from the small of my back. Logic would tell me that this was caused by an injury sustained to said area by playing cricket; discs aren't supposed to slip, see. However, because I'm a creative sort, I decided that the best solution was not to consult a doctor again on the matter. Oh no, I didn't fancy physio for it. I'd much rather grin and bare it and hope that nature kicks in and sorts itself out. So instead of doing the sensible thing, I figured I'd do something much more fun and solve the issue a different way. "How?!?" I hear you cry. Well, I went all 70's and brought a bean bag. A giant, red one, as it happens. It came today and great joy and excitement soon emanated from my body. A gasp, a smile, a mild erection, whatever way you could possibly express happiness was utilised in the following moments. The man who delivered it even seemed happy, likely because it was a couple of very light boxes, but also because who CAN'T be happy at the thought of a bean bag? I scoffed down the remaining crumbs of breakfast and stood aside my package (no innuendo, it ain't so big I have to stand next to it,) with a childish grin on my face. Opening it merely made me more immature about the whole thing, so maybe it wasn't the wisest of ideas to be given a knife in order to help with the unpacking process. When opened my eyes lit up. I'd waited a whole weekend since placing my order, and 3 days is an awful long time to spend sitting on an ordinary chair when you know the heaven of a giant bean bag is just around the corner. It's like eating plain pasta when you could be having ravioli, drinking water when orange juice is in the cupboard or going to a Grimsby Town match when Lincoln play just down the road (and play in the football league, might I add...). In short, I was chuffed when it got here. Perhaps more chuffed than a 20 year old man should be at the arrival of some retro furniture, but still, I'm not afraid to admit it.

However it was not as easy as just sitting in it. For a start a bit of re-arranging was in order. Prior to my revelation that a bean bag would solve all problems, I had inflated a football chair. You know, as you do. I'd got it as a birthday present from two friends who obviously did not realise quite how small my room was at my rented house, so being at my parents for the summer was the first chance I'd had to give it a go. Blowing it up took the entirety of South Africa v Mexico (perhaps a good thing, given the lack of anything during the game,) so I'd been sure to use it as much as possible. While it was very comfortable to sit on, it did come with it's set backs. Mainly the difficulties encountered when trying to get up out of it. Fortunately all the running I do had come in good for something and I was able to get up without the need for a crane or helpful passer by. The second main issue was the lack of suitability in this being a long term solution for my seating crisis. While comfort is assured, practicality is not. Had I wanted to do any work whilst sat on it, let's say, I'd of had to be very careful where I put my pens after use, let alone a Stanley knife...

It also has a nasty habit of deflating itself. Blowing up furniture every few days seems like something of a waste of time, so the football chair could only serve as a short term measure.

So, upon arrival of the bean bag, the football chair had to come down. I don't have room for both to be up at the same time, so with 3 people sat on the chair and one releasing the safety valve, the plan was put into action. In contrast to blowing it up, letting it down only took one half of football (Slovakia v New Zealand, if you wanted to know,) and soon enough it was back in it's bag waiting for another day when I decided I wanted to feel like I was floating again.

After all that effort, I needed a rest. I looked around and saw chairs, sofas, stools and cushions. All would be adequate, but I don't work with adequate.

Bean bag, meat my back side. Back side, bean bag. You'll soon be the best of friends.