One Smooth Dude (Or How to Maim a Girl with a Wheelchair)

Okay, I’ve written a number of stories about what I perceived to be stupid acts by other people, so it’s about time I told a story about my own act of stupidity.

This happened back before I met Laura, when I was between girlfriends and “on the prowl.” I went out with a couple friends to a local bar to listen to a band that was playing.  There I was, up near the stage, admittedly feeling a little sorry for myself as I looked around at all the couples holding hands or hugging each other and thinking, “When am I going to find that special someone?” Well, I had no sooner given myself a mental slap up-side the head to snap myself out of my funk when someone tapped me on the shoulder.  I turned to see who it was, and standing there was a very pretty girl from my neighborhood; I’m pretty sure her name was Melanie.

The band was between sets, but it was still pretty loud, so as we started talking, Melanie needed to lean in very close so we could hear each other.  She started off by saying how cool she thought it was that I was out having a few beers and seeing the band with my friends.

Huh, she thinks I’m cool…

Then she went on to ask me if I get out like this often, to which I told her that I try to go out whenever I can.  Then she says that if I wanted to, she would love to take me out sometime.

Excellent, she’s asking me out; I like it…

Melanie then tells me that she has no problem driving my van, and that she’s a nurse, so she doesn’t even mind if she has to push my wheelchair around.

Cha-ching!  This girl is perfect for me…

I could have simply said, “That would be great, Melanie, I’d love to go out with you sometime.”, and things would have been perfect, but no.  I had to show off how I could drive my chair myself so she didn’t have to push it around.  I planned on simply pivoting the chair slightly back and forth; yeah, that would impress her!  Here’s where things went horribly wrong.

Now a little about the chair I was in.  It was the first chair I owned, and as this was over twenty years ago, it was not as sophisticated as the chair I drive today.  I was very good at driving it, but it had only three speeds:  fast, faster, & turbo.  On top of that, it would go into a “sleep mode” if idle for a few minutes, and to put it back in drive mode, I had give it a hard puff.  Unfortunately for poor Melanie, if the chair was already in drive mode, this same command also caused the chair to take off like a bat out of Hell.  If you haven’t already guessed, it was already in drive mode.

If you remember, Melanie was standing very close to me so we could hear each other.  In fact, she was leaning over me so we could talk in each other’s ears.  So when the chair took off, we clunked heads.  Also, I felt the chair roll over what could only have been her foot.  To make matters worse, Melanie’s long hair got caught up on the flexible drive tube that I sip or puff on to control the chair, pulling it out of my mouth as I moved forward.  So there I am, shooting across the room in an out-of-control wheelchair!  Fortunately, the stage area cleared out because the band wasn’t playing.  Also fortunate was that I have an emergency cut-off switch on my headrest that kills the chair if it does get away from me.

After I came to a stop just short of careening into a small group of people, it dawned on me what just actually happened.  I couldn’t even turn the chair around to see if Melanie was alright, because I still couldn’t reach my drive tube.  After what seemed like forever, Melanie came limping up to me (which confirmed that what I felt the chair roll over was her foot).  She actually asked me if I was okay.  I felt like such an idiot.  I asked if her foot was alright, and she tried to make light of it saying something about not feeling anything because of the alcohol she consumed, but I knew it hurt (the chair weighs over 500 pounds with me in it).  I couldn’t apologize enough, and Melanie kept assuring me that it was alright.  After making sure I was okay, she gave me my drive tube back, said she’d call me soon, and hobbled away.  Still feeling like a total moron, I found my friends and told them what happened.  Needless to say, they had a good laugh at Melanie’s expense.

The next day I looked up her number and gave her a call to make sure she wasn’t permanently maimed.  She was very nice and kept telling me not to worry about it.  Before we said goodbye, I actually had the stones to say, “Hey, give me a call if you still want to go out some time.” Always an optimist!  She never did call me, and I really can’t blame her; self-preservation is a very strong instinct!

If you want to learn more about how my chair works, visit QUAD-FAQ.