returning to my bloggy inspiration for a day

When I first started this blog, is so that I could have a place to record all of the stupid things people would say to me because I am an amputee.  That never really panned out....I quickly started writing about other things.  Not for lack of material, lemme tell ya'.  People say stupid things to me daily, and if I'm out in public long enough, it's often multiple times daily, and it's the reason why sometimes I'd rather just stay home and be a hermit from time to time. 

Well, today I had such a classic example of stupidity that I thought it was enough to remind me of my original intention for this blog.
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I'm in my wheelchair, shopping at my local supermarket using a handbasket on my lap. As usual, I have seriously underestimated my shopping list, and I should have gotten a cart. But I didn't. And I'm aint gonna go get one, either.  What I have instead is the basket on my lap, a 6 pack of sodas in one hand, and a huge 24 roll package of toilet paper dangling from the other hand.  I'm not struggling one bit. This is par for the course with me.


I pull up to the checkstand and start to load my stuff onto the belt.  The lady in front of me, who is turned completely around to watch my every move, is doing this funny little pantomimed dance just for me.  For every item I lift from my lap and place on the belt, she is squatting down, outstretching her arms, and without actually touching my things, she is spotting every thing I lift, just in case I drop it. Every item.  Even the tiny little box of mac & cheese.  Because ya' know, I might drop it. 

I manage to say nothing and try to be amused by her antics rather than annoyed (which major progress for me, you have nooooo idea).  About half way through emptying my basket, she realizes I need no help getting my items onto the belt, so she shifts to rearranging my items that are on the belt. Even though my items are perfectly placed (so perfectly in fact, they are placed so that the refrigerated items are separate from the pantry items, for example), she is going to lift each item and put it back down about a half inch away from where I had set it.  I keep my mouth shut, and I give her a smile of all things, not the scowl of my inexperienced gimpy-youth.  It is at this point that she turns to me and finally says something.

"You have this all figured out, don't you."

"Yes. Lots of practice!"

She turns, lifts up her right pant leg (?!), and points to this 6" vertical scar on her leg, running over her knee, and says, "I am blessed!!"

"Yes, it would seem you are!"

She lifts up the other pant leg, so she is now standing at the checkstand, with her pants all wicky-wonky, and the checker is waiting for her to pay for her stuff.  The lady doesn't pay. She leans over me, points to both scars and says, "I am blessed!!!  I can still walk on both my legs!! I am blessed!"

At which point I find myself thinking, "Are you really honest to god saying this to a one-legged chick in a wheelchair??!!  Well, by golly, yes!! It would seem you are."  But instead of saying that, I say, "Yes, you are indeed correct. Blessed you are." (because aren't ya sorta implying that I am not, you nutjob??"

"And I had back surgery, too!! I AM BLESSED!!"
 
All I can do is think to myself, "Alright, alright. I got it. YOU are blessed."  Sheesh.

She turns and pays for her stuff.  The poor checker, who is waiting for her to pay, is watching this whole exchange and makes a great effort to pick her mouth up off the floor, because she sort of looks like she is catching flies.

The end.

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And yes, for every day I leave the house, I could write a story like this. 
LOL

^^LOOK!^^
I'm evening laughing!

And that's how I became "AmpuTeeHee"  ;-)