Many, many years ago at Green River Community College, I first wrote about Peer-Chair Pressure (PCP). If you think PCP is only in my imagination, Google it once. You’ll find articles about it on the Internet and the groundbreaking research of Dr. Hiram S. Burnshocker of Peoria University, who’s been studying it for the last 30 years.
I myself studied under him when he was a visiting professor at GRCC. It was then that he stumbled onto the condition while attending a faculty function. It is a universal condition – many people have it and don’t even know about it.
Here are the basics.
At a party there is always a finite number of chairs. They can be sofas, love seats, occasional chairs or even folding chairs. At smaller parties there are usually plenty of chairs to go around. But at a large gathering, eventually there are more people than chairs. For some people this is not a problem. For others, PCP raises its ugly head.
As the number of guests begins to reach the critical stage, you’ll notice people starting to stake out their territory. They’ll intentionally bring a light sweater along or keep their purse with them so that if they have to get out of the chair they’ve chosen, they can mark their territory with it. This is a big improvement in territory marking by the way, at least compared to our caveman ancestors who would just hike up a leg and whizz on the rock they were using. This is considered a faux pas in homes everywhere these days.
Marking is a generally accepted practice in most civilized societies. But some people who suffer from PCP still don’t bring any “markers” with them. Instead, they will choose to sit in their chair come hell or high water. They will make their mate or a friend fetch them drinks or food as they hold their territory against intruders. They could be literally bursting at the seams with pee, but they aren’t going to give up that chair to anyone else. They are not going to be left standing the rest of the night.
You will never see a PCPer arrive late to a party. They arrive early or right on the dot, ensuring the best selection of chairs. They will take the prime seating spots, letting the late comers fight over the dregs, an ottoman in the corner, a rickety folding chair, what have you. They have secured the psychological high ground with the best access to conversation, food and libations. For them, game over before it even began. They are the victors, the champions, my friends.
Now, a lot of people don’t care about holding onto their chairs. These are the ‘standers.’ Long ago, they chose not to get into the game at all. They are comfortable remaining vertical all night long. You can always tell who they are at a party; they are the ones wearing sensible shoes. A woman in five-inch stilettos isn’t going to be caught dead standing all night. She has to have a chair and will stake one out early on.
I was curious exactly when the die was cast as far as coming down with PCP so I asked Dr. Burnshocker about it in a phone interview last week. It seems, and I am paraphrasing here, that the symptoms seem to manifest themselves early on at children’s birthday parties. As anyone knows, a childhood favorite at parties is the game of musical chairs. As we all know, each time the music stops, a child is eliminated and another chair removed, until finally, there’s just one chair and two little party goers fighting over it.
As the music plays, a PCP prone child (clinically known as a ‘sitter’) will always position themselves so they have a straight shot at the chair. They will rush past the chair when on the backside, then slow down around the other three sides. A normal child will have never conceived such a strategy, for it’s just a game. They will just walk around the chair in time for the music. While the sitter anticipates the end of the music, the stander is in their own little world, enjoying the game, not the outcome.
The real fun starts when you have two sitters as the finalists. They consider that last chair to be sacred territory, a throne of validation, if you will. They will each stalk it like it’s prey as the music plays. When the music stops the fur begins to fly. They hit the chair at the same time, each trying to muscle the other one off. When one is declared the winner, the other is not a good sport about it at all.
These are your future party guests. At your soiree, they will do the same thing they did as kids if they arrive at the same time. They will circle, choose and mark… an adult version of musical chairs where there never seems to be enough chairs to go around.
I thought this whole issue only manifested itself at parties or other public events, but it goes much farther than that. Festival seating at a concert is a PCPer’s worst nightmare, says Dr. Burnshocker.
“But that’s only the beginning,” he said. “I recently got a grant to study parking at area malls. As you know, some people will park anywhere and walk a little farther to get to the mall door. Others will circle endlessly, waiting for someone to leave from a spot that may be just a wee bit closer. The person who parked farther away can be done with their shopping and the other person is still circling in vain, waiting to be that coveted spot.”
“PCPer’s?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied but now they have progressed to CPSS, or as we say in psychological circles, Close Parking Space Syndrome.”
I started to ask a couple more questions about CPSS, but Dr. Burnshocker cut me off. “Would love to chat more, but time’s up. Perhaps next time you’ll be on time for our meeting. By the way, why were you late? Couldn’t find a parking spot nearby?”
Not wanting to admit to it, I fended him off. “No doctor, not at all. One of my favorite songs was on and I was just circling the lot until it stopped.”
“I see, I see. Will next Thursday at 10 be good for you?”
“For another interview,” I asked.
“No, for an appointment. We have work to do, obviously.”
Out on the Treasure Coast, thinking that I need to buy a few more chairs for house, just in case someone stops by,
– Robb