Leaving a Mark
When I first got my dog, he had a lot of energy. I mean A LOT of energy. He required frequent trips to the dog park if I didn’t want him catapulting himself around the living room furniture. That dog would run for hours.
After a bit, we started to be welcomed into the “regulars” crowd at the park and people would come over to make small talk. While my dog basically ignored me until I made him come home, other people’s dogs stuck to them like Velcro. One afternoon, mid-conversation, one of the group’s mutts walked straight up to me, angled himself, lifted his leg and peed on my rear wheel. Mortified internally, I played it off as no big deal. The owners, melting with embarrassment, still made an overly apologetic exit.
Trying to appear unfazed, I let my dog run around some more. The joke was on me, though. In minutes, another dog ran up and peed on the other dog’s pee. Yep, time to go home, buddy.
— Dee Hydrant
The Vetting Process
For 25 years, I worked at my family’s Corvette and specialty car dealership in sales support and internet marketing. Frequently, customers called to inquire about what makes and models we currently had for sale. I always made a point to invite them to come check out our inventory in person, but never bothered to mention that I am a wheelchair user paralyzed from the waist down since birth due to spina bifida.
When they arrived for their showroom visit, their expressions often changed as I rolled up to greet them. After introducing myself, customers commonly would tilt their heads and say something to the effect of, “You sounded different on the phone.” To which I would reply, “Well, I’m a little shorter than most!” It always got a laugh.
— Slick Wheelie
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