Restaurants: It's Not About the Food

Saturday breakfast/ Sunday coffee
Week day breakfast
Dining out with friends is more work than it used to be, but a large part of the life Earl and I enjoy.  My winnie walker*, although less stable than more conventional walkers, is collapsible and more conducive to entering crowded restaurants.  But Skeeter, a motorized scooter with a small footprint, allows me into bars and restaurants as well, with some critical advantages.  I don't have to transfer to their chair, don't wobble, scare other patrons, and can have wine with dinner without worrying.  Since most restaurants have ADA–restrooms, I can generally manuever.  Life is good, providing I've accurately differentiated a "skeeter–restaurant" from a "winnie–restaurant",

Winnie allows me to meet friends for breakfast at the "winnie–restaurants".  I feel confident that if the inevitable fall happens, I may be embarrassed, but there is help at hand.  Our 'Breakfast Club' has met weekly for more than ten years.  As someone with mobility impairment,  I view breakfast as more than an eating opportunity.  It's a significant health promotion.  As part of the group, I have to speak and if my speech became unintelligible, I truly believe I'd hear about it.  If my hair and minimal makeup were askew, I'd hear about it.  If there were something in my teeth, I'd definitely hear about it.
So many restaurants, so little time

Shoot me or maybe just throw
 a bucket of water**
"Can I help you cut your food?" I've been asked.  The last time, I responded, "Sure, thanks.  Then, shoot me."  That's a real conversation stopper—not one of my better moments. 
I realize the intention is to offer assistance and to help me avoid embarrassing myself by knocking over a water glass, but that's one humiliation bullet I won't bite anytime soon.

Every Sunday, I scoot to meet a friend for coffee and book/children/politics/health conversation.  It's only an hour, but it's important to me. One Sunday, my friend didn't show.  I briefly wondered where she was, until a vague memory began to slowly dawn.  Mexico...I think she said something about Mexico.  I would have much rather had her there, but oh well—I did get my coffee and a scoot in.

One rainy, non-scootable Sunday, she and I came out to find a station wagon parked in the striped area next to the handicapped spot.  I'm OK with disabled parking being taken–first come, first served after all.  But parking in a no parking spot and obstructing a handicapped ramp is so not OK, on any level.  So, I manuevered down the ramp and had to lean on the illegally parked car for stability.  The car owner appeared and I heard behind me,  "I'm so sorry to have parked there. That was so thoughtless of me!"  I didn't look back, kept walking to my car, and thinking "yes, yes it was..."

Overall, the prospect of seeing people, talking with friends, and hashing over the current controversy of the week gets me out of bed, dressed, and moving–routinely. 


*Previous post-The Lighter Side of Progression 

**Previous post-Pity Party––Underrated??

The Breakfast Club with makeup  L to R: Tammy 'Novak', Kaye 'Monroe', Jackie 'Gardner',
 Carolyn 'O'Hara', Janet 'Taylor', Pam 'Channing', Susan 'Hayworth', Deanne 'Ball'

The lesson:  It's not just about the food

Comments

  1. AnonymousSeptember 30, 2013 at 9:20 AM

    Delightful photo montage! I can see what these ladies mean to you.
    What a wonderful thing to look forward to every week; seeing friends and catching up on the latest events. And then there is the added incentive in having the welcoming environment to keep your social edge sharp. Sounds like a valuable routine! Thanks for posting this!

    ReplyDelete

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