Less Miserable

 For my Mom's Birthday I bought her tickets to a matinee showing of a local Highschool's performance of "Les Miserables." She was very excited. We haven't been to any plays or musicals in years. Between her health, my health, and a world wide plague, being in a theatre, having to climb stairs AND be packed in next to the Coughy Coughersons was just, not, our thing.

So, yesterday was the day for "Les Miserables." We showed up at least forty minutes early to secure decent parking. Was that parking you say? We starting getting nervous when we noticed vehicles parked out on the street. Then, when we get to the actual lot, we find one designated handicap spot, of course full. At least two levels of stairs to get to the building and if there even was a ramp it must have been hidden. Cars were parked in non parking spots like a free-for-all. If we were to park at all we would have had to go back out to the street and by the time us pokey limpy gimps would have made it to the theatre it would have been well into the first act and WE would be Les Miserables.

"Les Miserables" was abandoned and we opted for a day of shopping and hanging out instead. I'm not going to lie, I cried. It's very frustrating. And sad. That just climbing the stairs to go into that Highschool was such a barrier. That my Mom didn't get to enjoy her gift. Plus the absolute shit parking was infuriating. I'm calling the School on Monday and letting them know the situation and seeing about a refund. It's the principal really. Maybe you think I should have done reconnaissance and found out about the parking and ramps ahead of time. I say, ramps and handicap parking and elevators and bathrooms bigger than a phone booth are THE way and if you don't have these then you are purposely refusing any disabled person access. Full stop.

Our day was full and fun nonetheless. They always are. It seemed everyone had the same idea that we had; to be out of the house. Everywhere we went was packed. Including all the roads. We stopped briefly at Asian Mart and on our way back to the car I saw these young ladies carrying some super cool pots. I hollered over at them "What are going to cook in those pots?" She giggled "Tamales!"

Then at JOANN Fabrics is where our patience was utilzed again. With the one checker scenario. Poor lady. Three gazillion customers in line and only one lady at the register, wearing carpal tunnel wraps on her hands. Immediately in front of us was a family. A sweet, sweet family: Mom, Dad, and three kiddos. The two older kids were doing a fantastic job of entertaining theirselves whilst waiting in line. It was impressive. Then finally, the youngest, he just started to break. He didn't want to be there anymore. Real heartbreaking tears. He had just had enough. We all had. His little cries were so sad, and relatable. I wanted to buy him every treat in that aisle. He tried so hard. 

After they FINALLY brought up more people to the registers and things started to move, I mentioned to the Mom what great kids she had, how amazingly well they did waiting that long in line. It seemed to surprise her. But I felt that she was touched by it. It takes only a few seconds to reach a person. To reach them and, make them less miserable. 😉💖

Special of the Day

 

The Moms and I were at Costco today (I KNOW RIGHT she's out of the house and doing stuff it's WILD 🎉💖) and of course we're the minority of the minority wearing our masks and she's in the awesome little motorized cart and I was just not having it with people being clueless derps not possessing any sort of spacial awareness. I kept telling Mom to just go, not wait. If we didn't crowd into spaces we would still be there. An elderly handicapped woman in another of the motorized carts was struggling to put products in her basket. How many people walked by without helping until I did? It took two minutes and it totally made her day. I usually love the spectacle of humans at Costco. I engage, I smile, I joke and interact. Not today. (Well, not totally.)  I even had a teenager say about my super cool sparkly sequin mask "If you're gonna wear a mask just wear a regular one." I circled him like a twinkling vulture in the pastry aisle until his shoulders dropped to his navel and he shuffled away. Forget eye smiles, I have murder eyes.

And yet, there was the woman trying on a hoody, modeling it for her daughter. I voted two thumbs up. The sweet lady that smiled at me in the chip aisle and when I thanked her for it she thanked me for yes, my "eye smile." A man by the potatoes that told my Mom to "just run him over." The hippie in the tie dyed shirt that let my Mom go ahead in a crowded aisle that said "This place is mayhem!" There was the kind worker that helped with my old frames and their new lenses (I'm OFFICIALLY old now with progressives.) The sample girl handing out jerky that when I kindly followed up my no thanks with a "I'm vegan anyway" she giggled and said "I'm vegetarian!" We both laughed. Then as we were checking out, the checker told me how much she loved my mask and I overheard the other checker say "Working checkout is like directing traffic." My Mom and I laughed so hard.

I suppose, after allllll that, what I'm wanting to say is, help the little old ladies in the handicap carts. Be aware. My Mom seeing my impatience told me "I'm not special. I can wait." If you know my Mom you can hear it in her kind sweet voice. She is special. We are all special to someone. Let's start acting accordingly.