Can You Make It Home?



People were laughing at her, it was so great to finally be in the situation were I didn’t have to say anything. She was so embarrassed, it was awesome.

Eric is one of my best friends, and will most likely be my best man, when I get married. But it’s a close toss up with my other friend Dmitry. The point being, many of you who read into my posts know who Eric is.

He did something stupid, but so do all of us, at some point in our life. He lived in Colorado at this point in time, I mentioned it in another post called A Horse With No Name, there a few other posts in which I talk about Eric.

In fact he was in my first post I ever wrote called I Didn’t Eat My Vegetables When I Was A Kid with the follow-up story Damn Trash Cans.

Before Eric moved to Colorado he had a job at a shipyard in Seattle that was laying him off ever few mouths at a time, I think he has been laid off five times in a year.

Then he moved to Colorado for some chick the broke his heart, again.

While he was living in Colorado, some guy moved into the house across from my parents house. I didn’t have a job at the time, I think. Regardless of the job that may or may not have been there, I was living back at my parents.

Eric got a fight back to Seattle one year to spend the holiday with his family, and well his house was on the other side of the block. So if he didn’t have to be at his parents house, he was with me doing something.

He was over at my house one day. At this point in time I still had the red Volvo seen in a previous post called Oh, Poor Kid, hey…..look at that, Eric is it that story to.

At this point the Volvo did not look so good, it had a grey hood on it and one of the turn lights was upside down. I got it a previous accident that “totaled” my car, but it was fixable. My dad and I ordered a 1996 Volvo 850 and replaced much of the front end, just the body parts, every mechanical part(s) that create forward motion was fine.

With that being said I got into another accident afterwards that popped out the lens of one of my corner lights and bent the new grey fender to a point that was not fixable. One of the red fenders was still in decent shape and we had a light from the other car that we didn’t need to use until now.

However the light was on the other side of the car.

So that nice red car now looked like a piece of shit with two red fenders on each side, a grey hood that was slightly bent from the other accident, and a corner light that was turned upside down to fit on the other side of the car.

Anyways, me and Eric were hanging out all day, we even went to Marcus’s apartment so he could hang out with him. It became Marcus’s apartment after I moved out.

It was great to visit there and see the massive pile of dirty dishes, that I was no longer responsible for. If you want to live that way, go for it bro, whatever makes you happy; however that did not make me happy, it actually made me very depressed.

I was not living there anymore, so I didn’t care.

Anyhow, Eric and I got back to my house after stopping at the Jackson’s on the corner to buy some beer. A few hours prior to this, when he first showed up to my house it was still bright outside.

The next door neighbor was outside of the house doing stuff and Eric yelled, “Bane,” across the street. My new next door neighbor, that didn’t really like me in the first place, also worked in Seattle at the same shipyard that Eric used to work at.

Eric worked with him for some time and they knew one another, so it goes to be that when we showed back up at my house Eric and I ended up on the other side of the street at a house party.

I got my wheelchair and I took it with me to his house, but I knew I could not fit it inside of his house. I just parked it outside of the door before going inside the house.

There I am walking around the house using walls and furniture to keep me from falling over. I have to carefully plan out where everything is so I can plan out where and what to lean onto before I sit back down to drink beer.

While I’m sitting down and talking to my new neighbor I told him, “dude, my mom almost called the cops on you.” He just got done talking about the party they had a few weeks ago where one of his friends got too drunk and ran out into the street, at midnight, yelling.

There were about 10 people at this house, maybe less.

I noticed a chick with blond hair going outside to have a smoke, so I followed after her. I knew that I didn’t have a shot with her, however I am more social with someone in an outside setting when we are both smoking.

I found this out when the smoking ban went into effect.

I go outside and see 3 other guys out there and we all start talking.

Before I go any further, this is not the first time this happened. It was the first time this exact situation happened, but I have heard a similar line of questioning before.

She was standing on the small slab of concrete that goes into the front door and has steps on the other side that go down to a sidewalk that leads to the driveway. My wheelchair was behind her, parked in the gravel pit the was about two feet below her.

One of these guys was playing with a piece of hose and smoking while he was standing right next to my wheelchair. Eric came out to stand down on the sidewalk, and these other two guys were just playing around in the front yard.

When Eric said, “dude we need to go home.” 

She pops into say, “are you okay to drive home?”

She saw me walking around this house and just assumed I was really drunk, it never entered into her mind that I was handicapped. She also completely failed to notice the wheelchair that was behind her.

I asked her to turn around, she thought that was kind of weird.

All the guys were now laughing at her and I say, “that is my wheelchair and I’m not even drunk.”

She then felt really bad and went onto say, “I’m sooooooooooooooo sorry.”

I then point at my car and say, “and that is my car, in my driveway, so I’m not driving anywhere”

She felt really bad, but no matter how bad she felt I highly doubt that would have made her think in the future that someone else who walks “funny” might not even be drunk, maybe they are handicapped.

Oh shit, imagine that!

I just simply said, “shit happens.”

I get in my wheelchair to go across the street and open my garage door while Eric splits from me and walks around the block to his house.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s