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Date Night At The Movies…
Written by Ada on Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Saturday night I had another first: I decided to go to the movies with my wheelchair. Until now, I’ve only wheeled around my neighborhood. I can be a bit of a planner, so I figured my actions in advance. I decided I’d walk the chair down to the garage, swiftly load it in the car and be on my way. Sometimes I feel so silly for advance planning as things rarely go according to plan.
I was the first person on the elevator on descent, but it rapidly filled to capacity. There are five elevators in my building, none very large. I felt awkward for a moment, stuffed in a packed elevator knowing my wheelchair took up so much space, but then realized… who cares?
Of course there was high traffic in the service corridor to the garage and a dozen people saw me walking my wheelchair. I don’t care. I don’t know these people.
I got to my car, opened the trunk intending to slide the chair right in and be on my way. HA!
I’ve got a LOT of stuff in my car for work. I’m on the road a lot, so my car is a mobile office. And, I get flat tires often, seven in the last year in fact. I rarely stow the spare and other tire changing accoutrements anymore as I could have a flat at any moment.
Much as I tried, I couldn’t jam the darn thing into the trunk! I moved some stuff around, stowed the spare in it’s intended compartment, and still couldn’t get the wheelchair to fit in the trunk. Problem solving engaged, and I discovered, it would fit (barely) behind the drivers seat. I need the seat in the farthest rear position to drive comfortably, but there was *just* enough room for the wheelchair, and it required some force to get it in there. Wheelchair loaded in, I was on my way.
I frequent four movie theatres in my area. I traveled to one only 5 miles away, but not one of my regulars. I’ve been there a couple times and knew there was a parking garage where I could park obscurely and retrieve the chair un-witnessed.
It is a large garage with several entrances and exits. All the exits look the same from the inside. I parked in the obscure area, and sitting in my car contemplated for a minute if I was actually going to do this. I did.
I wheeled over to the street exit and realized it was not the one I thought it was. There are three driving lanes at the ticket booth, and pedestrian doorways on either side. Neither side had a curb cut to get up on the sidewalk. This area is all new construction – and as I looked for a curb cut that was not there, I thought to myself “Are you f*cking kidding me?” So I wheeled through a driving lane, under the ticket gate and down the street. I knew there was a curb cut at the end of the block and fortunately there was not much auto traffic.
Up onto the sidewalk and down and around the block presented me in an area of heavy pedestrian traffic. It amuses me the way people dart out of the path of a wheelchair. Don’t worry people, I’m not going to hit you, and you can’t catch BIID from me.
Entering the theatre, the doors were easy enough to open. This is theatre is a megaplex with two dozen screens. Being a Saturday evening, it was fairly busy.
I got my ticket and proceeded around to the ticket taker who directed me toward the elevator. It’s a large lobby cluttered with cardboard stands marketing junk, and I caught my wheel on one of these heading toward the elevator. I pushed by and thankfully did NOT knock it over!
Upstairs, I wheeled off the elevator and proceeded toward where I thought my theatre was. I got half way around and noticed the numbers were going in the wrong direction. Perplexed, I turned around and saw a sign for my theatre, which was behind the elevator.
I wheeled in and saw there were no other wheelchairs present. The theatre was crowded and only a handful of single seats remained empty. Still, there were couples mingling around trying to find seats together. Eventually, these people started to fill the companion seats.
The movie was good. At one point there was a line about “paraplegics.” I wondered if anyone around me cringed at that.
As the movie neared ending, I started to plan my quick escape out of the theatre. I still had feelings of paranoia that I would see someone I know. Movie ended, and I quickly exited toward the elevator.
There was a group waiting for the elevator, a couple of mums with a slew of children. I anticipated they would force me on the elevator first, so I parked myself facing away and proceeded to bundle up to head outside. They went down, and as the door closed I pushed the button and waited for it to return.
My time came and I got on the elevator, and while I was trying to turn around, three generations of a family crowded on and stood so close to my wheelchair I could not.
The middle generation father said “Hey, how are you?” (I heard a tone that suggested he wanted to add “down there” or something equally humorous) I said “fine.”
We reached the lower level, they exited and I started to turn around. Just then grandma darted her head back in the elevator and asked “Are you okay?” I puzzled…did she mean, am I okay to get out of the elevator on my own??? I said “Yeah” with a smile.
Exiting the complex, a man held the first door for me and I smiled thanks, I got the next door myself and headed around the other direction back to the garage. It’s much longer this way, but I *knew* there was a curb cut.
Once in the garage, I had to wheel around looking for my car. At one point, one of my wheels got stuck in an expansion joint. It took a few tries but I was able to push through. I’m not a great wheeler, and times like this make me yearn for a nice rigid chair because I could really use that extra forty percent energy. I found my car, loaded it back into the car un-witnessed and was on my way.
It was not a particularly exciting date night, but then again the earth didn’t open up and swallow me and my wheelchair into the pit of hell. It was another first under my belt. Another opportunity to practice wheeling. And another opportunity to experience human interaction with people who see me as I should be.
Tags: BIID, Wheelchair, Wheeling
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3 Comments
I always find it amusing how people get out of the wheelchair’s way all the time. If anything goes wrong, I’d probably be better at avoiding THEM instead.
I’ve found that rigid chairs do indeed help a lot, mostly because they weigh less. But you probably already knew that.
People asking me if I’m “okay” or something like that tend to annoy me. On the SkyTrain (the rapid transit system around here) the other day, a lady offered to give me a push onto the train car. I’m like, “It’s only a 1.5-inch gap… I can easily bump that!” lol
Some heavy doors are a pain in the arse. Normally, I prefer to bypass any automatic door button there is, if it looks like the door is light enough. But for some places I’m familiar with, I know there’s no way in hell I’d be able to open the door easily, “disabled” or otherwise. In those instances, I would have to use the button.
The lack of curb cuts can be annoying. (More annoying when you’re crossing the street and walking pedestrians use the curb cuts for no apparent reason, and are too dumb to realize why you’re veering towards them. I mean, you’re right in front or on the curb cut, and I’m in a wheelchair. Figure it out.) That’s why bumping up sidewalks is something I have vowed to master one day. I can do it somewhat successfully, but not perfectly. (Easier with rigid chairs though.)
But at least you can drive to where you want to go. I don’t have that liberty; although taking public transit in a wheelchair is a pretty good experience too, I find.
People often ask me if I’m OK when I am not wheeling. I must have that kind of face or something ;)
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1 On 13 January, 2009, Chloe said:
I loved this, Ada! It is exciting for me to read about people doing similar things to myself, on a similar time line.
My old chair does not fit in the trunk of my partner’s car unless everything else is taken out first. The new chair is much easier in that regard since it quickly disassembles into five parts.
I have also been puzzled by people asking me if I am okay, when to my mind there is nothing obvious that I might need help with.
People do say strange things sometimes. I was wheeling into a restaurant with a friend a few weeks ago. A guy who was leaving said to me “Yes, you can bring your RV on in here”. I suppose it was a joke, but I didn’t really get it.