You want to know what I love about the Internet? I’ll tell you what I love about the Internet: stuff like Bench Monday. You want to know what Bench Monday is? I’ll tell you what Bench Monday is: exactly what it sounds like.
Folks all over the whole damn crazy world, six or seven hundred of them, to be inexact, wait till the day called Monday rolls around. They find a bench. They stand on it. Then they take a picture. If they can’t find a bench, they stand on somethin’ else—a stool, a sofa, a stone slab, some bricks, the edge of a washed-up tree trunk. Sometimes they bring their benches with them other places, so they can stand on them there. And they take a picture.
It makes no sense, is what it does. It’s a woman in bare feet holding a fuzzy yellow peach, standing on the edge of a workbench. It’s two pairs of feet, facing away from each other, and the sea stretching out behind them like the future. It’s some chick levitating on a blue bench outside her garage door, and for some reason there’s a hula hoop involved.
Bench Monday. Can you beat it? Happy that. Happy Bench Monday to you all. Amen.
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