After my blog, yesterday with the toilet incident, a lovely friend and Blogget of mine, told me of a story that made me chuckle, especially because I know her and, because there is something immature about me that laughs at toilet stories. She had broken her leg, Okay, I’m not that sick, I wasn’t laughing at that, but, she was in a wheelchair at the hospital and needed the toilet. She went to the disabled toilet and she is partially sighted, she wheeled herself into the loo, when to her horror, there was a man sitting on the toilet, pants around his ankles, she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Imagine, she’s in a wheelchair, so she can’t just turn on her heel? She said she wasn’t sure who was more embarrassed, him, or her. So, here’s me yesterday feeling ever so slightly bad about walking into the toilet thinking I was walking into the hall of the building, when a lady was still in there, but at least she was on her way out, hahaha. My friend did one better than that, the poor guy was still in the process.
Another lovely lady told me of a friend of hers who can’t see was walking along minding his own business when suddenly, he fell down a hole in the street. He wasn’t aware that there was work going on that day. Not only did he fall down there, but he fell on top of other workmen hahahhahahahahaha. Oh my. Too funny. I’m laughing with him as he told the story to my friend and our Blogget and he was also laughing. This is what I mean when I said yesterday we go through different stages where we are mortified about every little thing and then over the years it’s like whatever! Even when I started to use my white cane. The ground could have swallowed me up. Now, it’s as if it’s my right arm. I’m proud of myself for being able to get from A, to B, without well, falling down holes. Oh, I just fall onto roads, that was awful, but, I was with my dog, having said that, she wasn’t on harness. I was linking my friends arm.
So, some of my Bloggets who have been here for a while will know some of these stories, but this prompted me to tell you some of the things that really did make me die in shame. If I were to do them now? I would feel differently about it. Probably laugh but then, oh, gosh.
So, I did my first day at a high school. I was 22 and had a very successful day in class teaching adult students. One of my colleagues who I didn’t really know as I was brand new there, said he would come with me to the taxi to take me home. Long and short, I was married so he had no chance, but he was interested in me more than I wanted him to be. Well, there I was in my high heels thinking I was the next best thing to Charlotte Bronte, and my absolute hero who I believed was the most beautiful lady Olivia Newton-John, who by the way, I wish so much love and hope for her right now as she faces again breast cancer.
Speaking and acting all professionally throughout that day, I left the school to go to the car park when a black cab was waiting you know, a big car, one of those high ones? Well, I was aware that I had to step up high to get in the vehicle. Gosh, this step was higher than I first thought. Well, one foot in, just leaving the other to follow, right? My head crashed into the roof of the car. Oh, heck, as my backside followed I then realised that my feet were the same level as my bottom. No, I hadn’t stood on the floor, in fact, I was climbing on the back seat and it wasn’t a black cab, but a normal taxi.
Oh heck. There I was sprawled out on the back seat, whilst the guy from school was telling the driver of my address.
They went a bit quiet, I didn’t know how to get out of this situation without looking more of a fool.
So, how do I do this? Do I pretend it was meant to be? No, how could I?
I just pulled down my skirt which by this point was around my thighs and placed my feet firmly on the floor, placed my seatbelt on and tried to act normal.
There was no need for blusher that day.
Well, as the driver, well, drove. I tried to pass polite conversation with him. Oddly enough, he wasn’t wanting to interact. I think he was scared.
Best bit was, and remember in those days I could see very well once everything was still, but not in a moving and, not by someone pointing. I didn’t have a guide dog or a white cane, this man/driver didn’t know I couldn’t see. He pulled up and said his first words.
“Is this your house?””
Well, without thinking, I said.
I don’t know!
It went very quiet. Hahahhaaha. I asked him what colour was the door? He looked at me. Turning over his shoulder. I looked at him straight in the eye whilst asking. He obviously wondered what the heck I was on about? Was I taking the Michael?
Strangely he never picked me up again.
I could write so many stories about things I have done because of my eyesight. Running from college to get into my boyfriend’s car, putting on my belt he was picking me up to go for dinner. As I wondered why he hadn’t greeted me with a kiss. I turned to him, and, you’ve guessed it.
It wasn’t him!
Clothes shopping. I felt the material of a coat and said to my ex. “Oh my goodness. Who would buy such tatty material? It’s hideous””
Then the feeling of dread. As the heat from the coat warmed my groping fingers.
And, it began to move.
With a Granny attached to it.
I welcomed a lady to my house that I was selling so showing her around but in the meanwhile, closed the door on her Husband. I didn’t know he was there but what made it worse, was I thought the doormat was stuck in it so I opened it slightly, then closed it again and again, each time, shutting it harder. I mean, who wants to buy a house where you can’t shut the front door, right?
It took three hard slams and jams, before he groaned. Oh. Oops!
Another time I have written about, I was swimming with my youngest Niece with my ex who had disappeared for ages. I asked my Niece where her Uncle was? She pointed. I went to him joking but showing him I wasn’t impressed with him leaving us so long. I widened my eyes like a mad person and gritted my teeth. I dug my nails into his rather voluptuous chest, saying kill. Kill.
voluptuous? My ex? Naha.
I began to push him underwater, and, you’ve guessed it.
It wasn’t him.
As I have written before,, the guy left the pool probably is still receiving counselling.
Shoes again, panicking I was on a bus, it was dark the night caught me up. It was the day’s again I could see. But, not in the dark. It was late autumn. I had been to college translating for them. I realised I had passed my stop. It was the days before mobile phones. If I waited one more stop, that would have been worse because the next stop was two miles away. I ran down the bus, shouting stop, stop. Clunk clicking with again my high heels I would say about 4 inches. Over 10cm high. The driver grumbled as he had to stop and not at a bus stop. I almost jumped off the bus I was so embarrassed. The driver pulled away grumpy old bugger.
As I put my foot to the ground.
It was wet and cold.
My shoe? On its way, two miles down the road. Two miles is 3.22km
Well, I had to walk all the way home up. Down. Up. Down! Clunk, silence, clunk, silence!
I could go on and on and on. I shall leave it for today. Keep coming with your funny stories, even if you can see and you have a funny story to tell me. I won’t give your names. Just as I haven’t with the above stories from Sarah and Laura.
Hahaha. Joking, that isn’t their names.
There really called Julie and Debbie….
Kidding. Right join me later with more stories. X
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