Today I had some errands to run that took me well beyond my usual borders. I headed off to Quaintville, which I rightly expected would be invaded by droves of aging-hippie-chic boomers and their uber-cool offspring. Still, I thought I would get there before the hordes.
Lately, I'm keeping my crutches in my car.
I found a parking spot in Quaintville and got out with my crutches.
One thing I realized quickly upon gatching a glimpse of myself in a store window: I should never wear anything white that reaches down to my butt. For some reason, on crutches my butt looks huge. ("Do these crutches make my butt look big?") Cover it with white and it's just scary.
Again, I found myself limited in energy. I walked less than half the distance I usually would have. I also found that people were scared of me. Not quite cross-to-the-other-side scared, but scared enough to walk on the sidewalk curb.
I got the usual "Hey, how are ya?" generic greeting from a couple of the shop owners. One ignored me completely.
In Quaintville's ancient bookstore, I found myself in a warren of little rooms. I picked up an interesting book ("Stitches" by David Somebody) and began leafing through it. And was an impediment to foot traffic.
Walking back to my car, I know people were checking me out while doing pretending to avert their eyes. I caught a couple of them.
I have a wheelchair waiting for me. It's a matter of a few formalities and some investigation, but it will likely be mine within the month.
Quaintville will be entirely off limits. Much like the town in upstate NY, Quaintville's shops have steps leading into every one of them (except the Dunkin Donuts, which has a nice ramp). The beautiful little glass and jewelry store. The store with imported Italian pottery. The store of fanciful things. I won't be able to get into them. There aren't even little steps you would wheelie over - these stores have four or five steps in semi-circles (and no banister) with a landing and then two or three other steps. It was hard to get up them on crutches.
No joy in Quaintville. Not today. Not unless I go AB. And right now, that's just not on the agenda.
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