It *Does* Have a Name, Right?

“Someone please kill me.”

Ok, so your wife drags you out clothes shopping, you get into the Banana Boston Gap Republic Store of Bad Fashion Ideas or whatever the hell it’s called, and just before she disappears into the dressing room for 6 freakin’ hours, she hands you her purse and says “go sit down over there, I’ll just be a minute”.
Let’s talk about “over there”.
Is there a special name for that thing upon which unfortunate men must perch?
The Penalty Box?
The Bench of Boredom?
The Chair of Despair?
Come on guys, help me out. I know you’ve had to do time there. What’s that thing called?