One morning while in Hershey, we went outside our hotel to catch the shuttle bus to Hershey Park. And we were surprised to see a really. long. line.
Admittedly, we were lucky the previous times we'd used this service - getting to the pick up/drop off spot just in time to hop on the bus before it took off for its destination. Perfect timing! But not this go-round. No sir.
Having read the large sign in the entranceway of our hotel, we knew that the shuttle came by every 30-40 minutes. So who knew if we were joining the line close to the arrival of the next bus or just after the last bus took off? We'd just have to wait and see.
At any rate, from our far back position in the line, we figured that even when that next bus showed up, we wouldn't make it on anyway.
And we were right.
Oh well - we'll get on the next one for sure.
Grumblings and kvetching continued all around us, but Hubby and I just stood and waited. And Sweetie was surprisingly patient as she quietly stood and waited with us.
Next bus finally arrived. And we're getting closer. And closer. Closer still!
Close, but no cigar. The group of 3 in front of us could fit on that bus. But no more. We now were the first people to enter the next shuttle bus!
At first I was all,
What? Can't they see I'm disabled? Don't they see my braces and walking stick? Can't they make room for just three more? Or couldn't the group in front of us have been gracious enough to allow me and my small family to go on instead of them?
But, really... no matter. Actually, Hubby and I were thrilled to get rid of that party right in front of us. They had nothing but pure negativity spewing from their beings. Nothing was right with them in their chocolate-smothered world.
So, fine. Get on the stinkin' bus! Just go away from us and allow us to be as happy as we can be given the current glitch in the day's plans.
And you know what? It all worked out just hunky-dory anyway because as soon as that bus pulled away, 2 smaller vans and another full-sized bus pulled up to take all the rest of us to the Park. We ended up riding with a pleasant group of about 10 people, with a very friendly driver who deftly drove us through the back roads of Hershey, PA (avoiding the huge traffic jam on the main roads). We got a mini personal tour of the area. And we pulled up to our drop off point at Hershey Park just in front of the bus that left before us.
Ah.... Karma. Dontcha just love it?
And another thing.... This past Monday Sweetie and I went to the Post Office together. As we parked the car, I reminded her of The Rules - stay with me, hold my hand, no silly walking, and listen to me at all times. Got it?
Okay, Mama. Got it.
So we got in the Post Office just fine, took care of my business, then headed back to the car. But Sweetie, this time, did not want to hold my hand - only walk with me without holding my hand.
Whatever - as long as she really stayed with me.
But, of course, she started getting silly. Started getting skippy. And I implored her to please stop and please hold my hand.
Then (betcha didn't see this coming?)... she tripped on the pavement when my walking stick had the audacity to get in the way of her skip-adoodling.
HUGE screaming cries emitted from poor Sweetie (who actually wasn't hurt in the least - thank Goodness). And there we were - in the exact middle of the Post Office parking lot - both down on the ground waiting for her to calm down.
(That is, I immediately knelt to the ground right where we were so I could comfort Sweetie and assess her damages.)
And... there was at least one customer walking in the Post Office. And.... there were at least two Postal employees who were filling the trucks nearby. One of them, I know, did make eye contact with me.
But nobody came to help.
Again - I was all like,
Jeez! Can't a disabled mama get a little help here? Clearly I could at least be offered some - you'd think. But, noooo.....
And then... we were fine. In actuality we were probably down on the pavement for not even 30 seconds before I convinced Sweetie she had to get up so we could get to the car (that's interesting too... If Hubby had been with us she would have instantly insisted that he pick her up and carry her to the car. But with me....eh.... whatever - she doesn't even begin to ask such things of me. She knows better - even in distress).
Getting her to get in the car was somewhat argumentative (as is her wont recently with most things). But, finally, she did that too. She was not scratched up at all and we were able to make our way home. No harm, no foul.
In both cases I did initially feel an affront that my disability wasn't taken into account. At the same time, in both cases I was proud of myself to take the higher road, not complain, and get things settled in my own way.
I am woman. I can do anything. Since I am a disabled woman, it may mean taking a different route than most others would. But I get things done and I do it, usually, pretty well.