wheelchair confidentialDelusional Delivery

Before retirement, I was a college professor and did brain research. One night, to treat my research team, I ordered pizza and since my lab was tricky to locate, gave instructions for the driver to meet me at the end of the breezeway.

When I went to meet the pizza driver, I watched as a vehicle circled a few times, but never stopped. When no one else showed, I had to go all of the way back to the lab to call, as we didn’t have cell phones then. Again, I went outside and watched as the whole scene repeated.

I called back a third time and the exasperated order taker said, “The driver is here now. YOU can talk to him!” The driver’s excuse? “I drove around twice but nobody was there to meet me except some lady in a wheelchair!”

“Do you think I have to eat pizza standing up?!” I responded.

In the end, most of the team had to leave before the cold pizza was finally delivered. Looking back, I could kick myself for paying.

Oh, that’s right, I can’t kick either.

— Crustfallen, Ph.D.

Bra Humbug

After being injured in 1995 and wrapping up nearly a year of rehab, I finally ventured out alone. I renewed my driver’s license and could manage my chair pretty well, so I decided to start Christmas shopping at the mall. A ride on the Macy’s elevator took me to the second floor and dropped me off right in the middle of the Women’s Intimates section. The aisles were tightly packed to accommodate all the Christmas displays and I brushed up against most of them as I passed.

wheelchair confidential

As I cleared the lingerie section and purposefully rolled in the direction of the men’s department, I heard a woman’s voice call out, “Can I offer you some assistance?”

“No thanks,” I said. “I am all set.”

“I really think you could use some help,” she responded.

“No, I’m good … really,” I replied, wheeling away.

Then she said, “I don’t think so. Look behind you.”

I turned around to see several bras and their hangers caught up on my chair’s handles, backpack and folding bars. Oops. The saleswoman, smiling and trying to suppress her laughter, quickly disentangled them while I just sat there, getting redder by the minute. When finished, she gave me a hug and said I was good to go. We wished each other a Merry Christmas and I continued on my way.

— Pant E. Snatcher

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