Circa 2007
If I were disabled and in a wheelchair, I think I would be a menace to society. Just for fun I would race around malls and “accidentally on purpose” run into people. They wouldn’t yell at me or hit me because, come on, I’m in a wheelchair and they would look foolish having a David-and-Goliath confrontation. Yes my friend, being in a wheelchair, gives you a license to terrorize folks.
It’s tempting to cruise around in a wheelchair. You can rest your flabby legs. People leap out of your way. You get patted on the head. Other people in wheelchairs, who think you ought to take the stairs, don’t sneer at you at in the elevator. Plus, you’re always moved to the front of the line. The bathroom stalls offer well-needed elbow room and possibly a racquetball court, if you can get up a game. And, the parking spots are to die for.
Wheelchairs are fun. There’s the joy of popping wheelies, jumping trashcans and zipping between people’s legs. The exuberance of flying down ramps and letting the wind whip through your hair like you’re eating a York Peppermint Patty. I can dig that. Just get out of my way or you might wind up in a wheelchair yourself.
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If you’re in a wheelchair, you bet your boots people will cater to you. And there’s nothing wrong with that— unless you’re one of those goofy people with a conscience. When you go into a crowd in a wheelchair, the mob moves out of the way. This miracle reaction is right up there with the parting of the Red Sea. People like to tell other people to watch out, there’s a guy in a wheelchair. This gives them a good feeling that they’re helping out the world. It takes away their guilt for parking in that handicap spot.
How glamorous it might sound to be in a wheelchair, but there are issues. Cracks in the sidewalk can be troublesome. Brakes failing on steep ramps are no fun. Also, for some reason, you become a magnet to others searching for a friend. “Look at the poor guy in a wheelchair. The crippled fellow is probably lonely and wants some company.” Yeah, if you’re buying the drinks. But the worst thing is that everyone has that one story about when they were in a wheelchair that you would have to listen to. It usually starts out with the line, “I know what you’re going through…” Then you’re stuck in a bored limbo, listening to their ordeal when they had an ingrown toenail and were laid up for several hours wondering how they were going to get a Keebler cookie from the top cabinet.Yeah, they understand your plight, for sure.
The best wheelchairs are those electric scooters. Those things haul #@*. However, there is nothing more frightening than one of those all-terrain vehicles barreling down on you with some crazed old man at the wheel with a look of dementia in his eyes. Scary stuff. He’s got nothing to lose. It’s not like anyone’s going to sue him for his box of Depends.
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Baby boomers will soon be moving into the wheelchair age. It won’t be long until the sidewalks are littered with ‘handicapped’ buggies. They’ll probably cause accidents, wheelchair pile-ups and SigAlerts. Wheelchair rage will undoubtedly become a common term and a major problem, with elderly folks shooting at each other with enema bags. And with crime the way it is, there will most likely be a slew of wheelchair jackings.
Still, walking is a lot of work. It’s exercise, and let’s face it, nobody likes that stuff. Don’t get me wrong, pushing a wheelchair isn’t easy, but at least you don’t get blisters on your feet. If you can go through life sitting on your #@*, I don’t see the problem. You only have to worry about flat tires, but as long as you have Cripple A, you’re good to go. So my suggestion to you is get out there to your local wheelchair dealership and get yourself a new set of wheels. Especially with gas prices the way they are, dawg, this is the ideal form of transportation. Pimp your ride? No, I say gimp your ride.
by Jeff Charlebois
