Enter the blue armchair. I've had it as long as I've lived in San Francisco. I got it at Thrift Town on Mission street, so it wasn't fancy to start with. It has become less fancy through wear and tear and chocolate stains. When I first got it, the neighbor's cat found it and decided it would smell better with a shot of male cat spray. Forty shots of Febreeze and several months of avoidance later, it thankfully went back to smelling like a chair. It's a little saggy and the back cushion had to be replaced with pillows. It looks like this:
I've known for a while that it would someday be returned to the great thrift store in the sky (bless it, it's not actually comfortable), so a while back I wrote a short story to somehow put into words my feelings for my chair.