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I collect them. Moments of the inanity, stupidity and general idiocy exhibited by the able-bodied around a wheelchair. They happen quite frequently. Examples: the ubiquitous “do you have a license for that thing?” (oh, ha-ha – so very funny. And I’ve only heard it 500 times before so yes, still hilarious!) and then there’s an acquaintance of mine who always kicks my times. Always. The only thing keeping me from kicking his shins in return is that it’d probably hurt my foot.

And just this week, I got another one.

I’d just come home from shopping and was driving in loops on the red runner in the lobby to get my tires dry. A woman enters the building, the aura of brisk cheeriness about her exuding community nurse. And she says “that looks like a comfy ride!”.

Sigh.

I smile wanly, at a loss for words. I am always at a loss for words during these moments, the smart quip coming to me well after it’s passed. So I tell her the truth, that I’m drying my tires and all the way up in the elevator, she natters on about the comfy ride, clearly caught in a loop of what she believes to be a clever comment. I am Canadian, grew up in Denmark and therefore constitutionally and culturally too nice to say what’s in my mind:

“Oh, yeah! It’s like a La-Z-Boy with wheels! It’s such a perk for us cripples – you oughta get one yourself!”