it's not my fault you're a buttmunch

I've come to the conclusion that to be disabled in London would suck. I've been commuting with munted foot for just two days and I hate it.

Work kindly agreed to let me work from home on Monday. I could totally get used to it. I had my music, I could dress even more informally than normal, it was totally great. But I didn't want to take advantage so I ventured in on Tuesday.

Big mistake, given how swollen my munted foot was.

The train ride in was largely ok. Except it was even busier than normal and there was only one seat left. At a table, on the inside. Which clearly was never going to work with my foot. I approached (read: hobbled) and asked the man in the aisle seat if anyone was sitting there, as is customary. He replied with the customary shake of his head and went to move his bag.

This is where I deviated from the normal protocol.

"Um, do you mind if I take the aisle seat and you move to the window?" I began hesitantly. He looked at me as if to say "demanding little so and so". I then gestured at my bandaged toes (visible to all since the only shoes I can wear at the moment are sandals) and added "I've fractured my toe so it would be good to have more room."

This is one reason I wish I had been given a crutch. At least then my muntiness would be visible to all.

Train gets in to Waterloo.

Waterloo station is just not disabled-friendly at all. If I was in a wheelchair, the lifts down to the bus stops are either non-existent or not obviously signed. (Note to self: look for elevators tomorrow.) No problem, I'll take the usual escalator down - walking down stairs is much harder than walking up.

Wrong. The past two days the down escalator has been broken. So I've had to limp down, one stair at a time, like an unsteady two-year old. With people rushing past. I could almost hear the exasperation. Yes, I like to walk slow. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than walking like a muppet, getting in people's way and generally slowing everyone down. Everyone gets their kicks some way, this is mine.

Buttmunches.

The bus yesterday was fine. Fortunately bus bud was there (hurrah!) so as well as having company, I had a pseudo bodyguard. The ride went without incident.

Got to work (having collected tea and a danish en route - cheers bus bud!), got in lift up to desk on 3rd floor. No problem. Down at lunch then back up again. End of the day I hobble to the lift.

The lift at work is one of those old fashioned ones, where you have to manually shut the gates yourself to get it to work. Frequently people do not close the door properly, prompting many a "can all floors please check the lift doors" email. I think we all know where this is going.

Some buttmunch (although at the time the word I used began with f and rhymes with tucker) had left the gate open on a different floor. It was gone 7. Most people had left for the day. Cussing the inconsiderate sod loudly and repeatedly, I eventually made it down the 3 flights of stairs, having grumped at my nice and understanding editor that I wouldn't make it in again, I'd had enough.

I came in again today.

The train ride was fine, no incidents. The bus was a different story.

I'm sitting in my seat, leg stretched out as that's the only way my foot is comfortable. I'm once again wearing the sandals, meaning the bandages are visible. Guy next to me stands up. Kicks my foot. I yelp with pain.

He shoots me a "what the f***" look.

"I have a fractured toe and you just kicked it!" I inform him, not too politely either. What, I was in pain!

He shoots me a look that says "crazy munted person, shouldn't be getting on a bus and mixing with us unmunted people and putting your feet in our way". Yes, that's right, cause it was totally my fault. Again, gives me kicks.

Buttmunch.

Listen, it's as much my fault as it is that the sky is blue. It just happens, get over it. No need to be such a dick about it.

Made me think about a couple stories in the paper recently, particularly one where a little girl was the victim of a hit and run and crawled to the roadside. At least ten other cars drove past - and reportedly swerved around her. Not a single one stopped to help her. When did we stop caring? Helping each other? At what point did we become oblivious to the people around us, and realise that maybe some need help or just a bit of time?

I don't wish to comapre my plight to hers. It's more to highlight how impersonal we seem to have become. I guess my point is slow down, look and don't be a buttmunch.

TOE UPDATE

The colour is fading a bit, hurrah, but is still quite dark. Is now close to this colour, having been THIS a couple days ago.