Three Day Ordeal: I Glued Myself to My Easy Chair

Three Day Ordeal: I Glued Myself to My Easy Chair

I fought on the beaches of Iwo Jima. But I have never so feared for my life as when I glued myself to my recliner and battled for days to set myself free.

Day 1: at 0800 hours Friday morning my better half drove off to visit her sister for the weekend. I was on my own in the farmhouse to do just as I wanted. Play sports loud on the radio. Maybe even add a little whiskey to my beer.

At 1200 hours I was still in my underwear, as is par for the course on such occasions. Exhausted from a failed attempt to glue the mast onto my latest ship-in-a-bottle, I retreated to my recliner.

An hour later I awoke, my mouth dry as a bone. But when I attempted to rise, it was like a vise held my rear. I tried and failed again and again to get up. All at once I knew why. I had napped for an hour on a big tube of that super-grip glue. The chair, my boxer shorts and my keister were stuck together like iron.

The escape effort had me even more parched. My eyes landed on the only fluid within reach: a half-quart of Johnny Walker Red on the end table. I sipped from it slowly, knowing it might be my only nourishment for days.

Day 2: I awoke disoriented in the dead of night. As I rolled about, the recliner tipped with a sickening crash and I was flat on the floor. The chair and I were still cheek to cheek.

Somehow, I drifted off again, only to be aroused by the dawn. I coolly analyzed my predicament. My only chance was to reach the phone on the other side of the living room.

I clawed the carpet with my fingernails, barely inching along. By early evening the quart was empty and no longer of use.

Day 3: Sunday I resumed my arduous journey, a day full of fevered images of paramedics hovering over my dehydrated body.

Monday morning 0900 hours, I clawed forward with a jerk. Horrible pain ripped my rear. But I was free! I looked back to see portions of my boxer shorts and by bottom still stuck to the recliner.

An hour later I had consumed four bologna and egg sandwiches and a half-gallon of milk. By the time I heard the little lady's tires crunching over the gravel, I had repaired by chair and policed the room. To this day, my wife has no idea where my red-and-blue polka dot boxer shorts disappeared!

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