"What's that bar stool doing over there by your chair?"
"I don't know ... I'm not its keeper. It might have walked over there on its own. Or ... I might be using it to put my coffee on. Why?"
"You better not be standing on it ..."
I stretched out my arms in supplication, an "oh well" sort of gesture.
"... because that would not make me happy."
I stretched them out a wider.
"That's Life," I said.
.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )