Sunday, February 19, 2017

Did you ever have a moment when you felt like dying of embarrassment?

I was involved in a science competition in high school, and as a college student, I returned as a staff member. The organizer was an older woman in a wheelchair, and we’d become friendly.

While we were talking one day, she moved her wheelchair in such a way that my lower leg got pinned between her footrest and the wall. I stifled a yelp - the footrest was sharp! - then politely got her to back up so I could free myself.

The chair had taken off a fair chunk of skin from my leg. I wasn’t badly hurt, it was just a scrape. But I was noticeably bleeding. She was horrified, and was apologizing profusely. I was trying to laugh it off, but was distracted and flustered, so what comes out of my mouth?

“That’s OK, I have two of ‘em.”

That is, two legs. And the instant it left my mouth, I remembered - she has no legs. Maybe half a leg if we’re generous. Hence the wheelchair. Kill me now.

She saw the look of abject horror on my face, and had the charity to pretend she hadn’t heard it. So I limped off to the bathroom to clean my wounds. And die of shame.



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