Spectators on Stools

Li Ming, carrying his small red plastic stool, looked out of place in the crowded cinema ticket gate. The people around him were either carrying small stools printed with cartoon characters, holding folding chairs, or even lugging wooden benches from home. This was a new project launched by the "Starlight Cinema" in the small county – no-seat movie viewing.

He originally thought it was just a gimmick, but he didn't expect that people actually bought these tickets. The Spring Festival movies were so popular that tickets were hard to come by. Those with seats were in "emperor positions," while those without became "stool spectators." Li Ming originally grabbed a ticket with a seat, but the system crashed. After the refund, he could only helplessly choose the no-seat ticket, which was half the price.

The cinema lobby was like a flea market, with all kinds of stools lined up next to each other. People occupied their small spaces as if they were moving houses. Li Ming found a spot near the wall and put his stool down. He looked around, people's faces filled with excitement as if they were participating in a large-scale performance art. He smiled wryly; it was really exhausting just to watch a movie.

When the movie started, the light on the screen flickered in the darkness. Li Ming adjusted his sitting position; his little stool made his butt ache. The rustling sounds came from time to time around him, some people were changing positions, some were whispering to each other, and some were secretly eating snacks. He felt like he was not in a cinema, but in a large stool market.

The movie plot had twists and turns, and the characters on the screen were showing joy and sorrow. Li Ming suddenly felt a strange sense of absurdity. The people on the screen were fighting for their lives in their world, while he was sitting on a plastic stool, enduring the pain in his butt. This feeling was so real, yet so unreal.

When the movie ended, the lights turned on, and the crowd got up one after another. The sound of stools colliding was endless, like a chaotic symphony. Li Ming picked up his little stool, ready to leave. He suddenly noticed a new notice posted on the cinema wall - "To thank the audience for their support of no-seat tickets, this cinema will launch 'Stool VIP' service. Patrons who bring their own premium stools (such as leather sofa stools, ergonomic chairs, etc.) can enjoy priority entry, free popcorn, and an exclusive 'stool viewing area'."

Li Ming was stunned. The small stool in his hand suddenly felt extremely hot. He felt like a fish caught in a meticulously designed trap, and this trap was so justified. He suddenly remembered the ubiquitous KPIs, 996 schedules, and involution in his company. Isn't this just another "stool VIP"? For such little benefits, everyone is willing to fight tooth and nail, but forgetting what they are working for.

He walked home, his small red stool swinging in his hand. He suddenly stopped, raised the stool high, and slammed it to the ground. The plastic stool made a crisp cracking sound.

The next day, he submitted his resignation letter. The reason was simple: he felt that the chair in the office was also quite uncomfortable. His colleagues thought he was crazy, but only he knew that he just didn't want to sit on that "stool" without end anymore.