I’ve been debating how to describe this without going on at great length about the neurological effects of having been rear-ended in ’00. Eh. Those who’ve seen me walking know what I’m talking about.
Last night I was at Trader Joe’s, i.e. a not very big grocery store.
Three tall 20-something men in bright red t-shirts were laughing and joking and enjoying each other’s company and taking up a fair bit of the aisle while me with my cane in my left hand and pulling a cart with my right did too. We had to each let the other(s) go by a few times.
What passes for balance for me is all tactile and visual feedback confirming the direction of up. Bright orangey-red close to my face provokes extra wobble.
I was looking at some new vegan product in the refrigerator section thinking, Hey, dairy-free for my allergic kid! when they caught my peripheral vision and I turned in time and saw.
They were mimicking how I’d looked trying to go past them in those shirts (which they of course couldn’t have known anything about) in those narrow spaces.
I looked at them with a slow-motion grin and an appraising look and pronounced, You guys dance like I walk.
They burst out laughing–just a little too hard, meaning they knew they’d been caught and were relieved to find out that the little old lady had a sense of humor.
Sometimes having been a mother of teenagers in a past life pays off.
And who knows if, thirty years from now, they might need to remember that one can be damaged and still be able to laugh over the whole thing.
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