Dumb and Disability

Today I was in a supermarket, patiently queueing  as all us British do (we are really good at this – Olympic standard), and an elderly woman suddenly decided to try and push her way in front of me. I knew what she was up to as soon as I saw her appear, so I carefully made sure there was no gap between me and the person in front of me. How dumb must you be to try and inveigle your way into a queue like this?

Then the person in front of me goes to the check-out. Just me and the interloper now. A place opens up and like a merciless bird of prey I swiftly go in for the kill and…erm…pay for my newspaper, bottle of Apple Tango and tomato-and-lettuce sandwich.

I am triumphant! I have dominion of this check-out for the duration of my purchase! I am the bloody champion! Put that in your pipe and smoke it, you sneaky uppity twit!

This dumb woman coughs and says loudly enough so that everyone in the queue can hear, “I hope you are proud of yourself going in front of someone who is in a wheelchair.”

Yup, that is right. Elderly woman in a motorised wheelchair. The interloper was disabled.

I looked around and, just as loud, I said, “I hope that you are proud of yourself, dear, trying to push into a queue.” I stressed the word ‘dear’ rather splendidly I thought. “Using your disability to push your way to the front of a queue is both shameful and gives disabled people a bad name.”

The woman gave me the evil eye and scowled, her face wrinkling up to resemble a ploughed field. I stood my ground. One person behind her said, “Hear hear, well done, mate.”

Then the moment passed, the rest of the queue shuffled past the woman, and she drove herself to the end.

There isn’t much of a point to his blog. I am just writing this to get my anger out of my system.  Part of me felt ashamed, I am not sure why. But I believe I did the right thing. I try to treat everyone equally and I would have acted the same even if the person wasn’t disabled. I did the right thing.


About greebohobbes

All-round irritant, expert swordsman (loves lopping off the heads of ghouls), professional charlatan and outrageous wearer of black cocktail dresses...
This entry was posted in BekHobbes, disability, humour, ill-manners, queue, reallife, rudeness and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s