So, I was sitting in the car, waiting for Oran to buckle his seat-belt. We were at the corner of Ninth and Magazine, by The Rum House and its Taco Tuesday, so it will be slammed all day. I noticed a young girl, maybe sixteen, maybe twenty years old, wearing a bright pink sundress while sitting alone at the head of one of the outdoor tables. There were five or six water glasses, so I guessed that she was waiting for her group and had chosen to stay outside. Probably because of the motorized wheelchair. She had that condition where her arms were like little flippers. I forgot the name of the condition, and I dont feel like looking it up in another tab to appear well-informed. The first thing I thought of was the isomer of the pregnancy medication that caused all those birth complications. Thalidomide? Anyhoo, she could steer the chair with her flippers, and I thought about how cool that was, and I was going through the thoughts about her quality of life, imagining what her daily routine is like, as a mental screensaver while Oran was getting his seat-belt situation together. But then I noticed that she was using a touchscreen cellular device with her feet and toes. Holding it in place with the left, typing with the right. Updating FB, tweeting for all I know #phocomelia. It was amazing. I told Oran about how cool and awesome it was that this girl could do all these things. We compared ideas about how her chair worked. And I felt kind of sad and confused, because I wanted to introduce my self and tell her how awesome it is that she can sit at a restaurant and isolate on her phone like every other douche. And I realized how I was singling her out because of her inability to hide her condition, to fade into anonymity like the rest of us. I wound up leaving and not introducing myself, my intuition told me it was more kind to leave myself out of her day. I thought about all the people who look normal on the outside, but feel all crippled inside. I though about how much I take for granted, and how vulnerable I feel when I am sick. I though about how many people never get the chance to run, swim, dress themselves, take a dump unassisted. I see any other person sitting at a table, in public, on their cell: Automatic Tool. The fact that this girl had the ability to text and drive is a miracle.
Posted on: Tue, 12 Aug 2014 17:15:14 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015