Last night (Friday) we went to see a classical guitar performance. It was lovely.
The building, a fairly new one (past decade probably), was theoretically handicapped accessible, but the public lift was broken, and they really didn’t have their act together to bring people up and down the service elevator. (They did manage, but it was not a smooth process. Even the staff member escorting us nearly gave up and triggered the emergency exit alarm to get someone’s attention, since they were keeping us locked in the service bay.)
Also, the handicapped washroom was locked. There was theoretically another one inside the main washroom, but, as I discovered, it was not deep enough for my scooter to get into (let alone close the door behind). Trying to back out, after I’d realized that, was a nightmare; not enough room to turn around. Eventually a group of women had to help by lifting the back of the scooter. So embarrassing!
Other frustrations are the masses of people on busy streets who are staring at their phone instead of the people around them. I’ve had several near-misses with those folks. They don’t even walk in a straight line, so I could pass them!
Or the stores and restaurants that put sandwich board signs or garbage bags or construction debris blocking more than half the sidewalk so my scooter can’t get around it. And because the curbs (kerbs, to the Brits) are so high, I can’t just pop onto the road, the way a pedestrian would. So I have to back up, unless DH or a friendly, alert person is nearby and moves the mess.
Then their are the sidewalks that are blocked off for construction, but there’s no notice and when you discover it, you have the same situation as described in the previous paragraph, except you really do have to back up.
I’m learning so much, seeing life from this vantage point. The funny thing is that DH gets angrier about it than I do.
I have learned to simply be patient. Zen…
