Sunday, May 09, 2010

On How I got Really Mad at a Poor, Nice Blind Guy

Yesterday we went to have lunch with Meg and Pat to celebrate mother's day. Of course, it was Gabe's diaper changing and feeding time (it's always Gabe's feeding time). I then cavalierly volunteered to change him, hoping the bathroom would have a changing station. Well, it did, but it was inside the handicap's stall, which was occupied, but not only that, the door was wide open, and the guy inside was on the phone loudly setting up an appointment for something or another. I didn't see crutches or a wheelchair, although I didn't really look very intently (it was pretty awkward as it was), so I thought "Well, I've done this same thing enough times. After all, handicap stalls are spacious and comfortable. I'm sure that when he sees me out here waiting with a baby to be changed, he will hurry." But no luck; the guy was really taking his time.

After some five minutes of waiting, and listening to the details of the appointment setting, I decided to unroll the diaper bag's changing pad and change Gabe on the floor, all the while shaking my head and mumbling to myself how horrible and unfair the world was. By the way, the bathroom was pretty small, and I decided to locate myself in a spot where the guy in the stall could see me, but I couldn't see him (again, it was quite awkward already!). "This poor baby crying and my fervid head shaking should show him!" I said to myself. Once I was done, I huffed and puffed out of the bathroom.

A few minutes later, as I was sitting at my table telling Meg and Pat about the rudeness of this stall user, I saw a blind man walking out of the bathroom being guided by a waiter to his table.

Needless to say, I felt like a total jerk and rapidly changed the subject.

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