Suzie Strikes Again
This one’s a doozie. I just hope I can do the story justice.
So there’s this woman in a wheelchair, Suzie, with whom I’ve had two prior encounters. The first was about a year ago when her electric wheelchair ran out of charge and she asked me to help push her home. Home ended up being very far away.
And then there was the time a few months ago that she saw me in the library and asked me to help her write an e-mail. Two hours later, I was still standing and transcribing her lengthy ramblings.
I should note that she is quite disabled (only has partial use of one of her hands) and is rather difficult to understand.
Anyway. Tonight, as I’m walking from the library to grab a quick sandwich, she wheels up behind me and asks if I could help her. It takes awhile, but I finally figure out that she’s having trouble getting over some snowy part of the sidewalk with the chair and needs a push.
I agree (what else could I possibly do) and we are on our way. Note, by the way, that not only is it dark and late at this time, but it is REALLY cold outside. We’re talking frostbite-level cold.
After a block, Suzie asks if I have a shovel. This is where I begin to grow uneasy.
I tell her that I do not, and she then stops outside McDonald’s and tells me that I should go inside to ask them for a shovel. Those of you who know me should be well aware that I do NOT like the idea of walking inside McDonald’s to ask random people for shovels.
I see no other option, though, so I walk in, start a conversation with the McDonald’s manager with an “OK. This is a little weird, but…”, and walk out carrying an ENORMOUS shovel.
After another block, we run into our first obstacle. And it becomes immediately clear that the shovel is going to be of absolutely no use, as this is a big pile of solid ice. All I can do is push the chair as hard as I can and muscle her over the snow/ice bank.
It is only then that I realize that I am going to be pushing her all the way home. The entire stretch of sidewalk is entirely covered with snow and ice, and there are hardly any other people around. My only other option would be to leave the woman to freeze, and I’m not going to be doing that.
So I continue pushing the chair as hard as I can until we get to Park Street. Unfortunately, I just can’t get the chair out of the intersection and onto the icy curb, and we end up blocking traffic and causing an extended round of horn honking. Some random dude eventually runs out of his car and has to help me push the chair back onto the sidewalk.
I ask Suzie how much farther it is, and she tells me that it is still seven more blocks down Park Street. And these are LONG, ice-covered blocks.
I take a moment right about then to finally look down at my hands. Of course, I’m not wearing gloves. And the hands turned numb several minutes ago. Now, though, not only are they painful, but they are purple and oddly wrinkly. It is not good.
I start asking the few strangers around for help. No one is willing to help me push her, but I convince one woman to sell me her gloves for $5. Yes, that’s right. I bought gloves from a random woman on Park Street for $5.
Anyway, this story is already too long, but the saga continues. I push her as hard as I can. One particularly impassable bit of sidewalk leads us to having to wheel down Park Street itself, blocking an entire lane of traffic. And the whole time I’m carrying not only my laptop, but the enormous shovel from McDonald’s.
We eventually get to her house. I walk back and get some free hot chocolate from the guys at McDonald’s. And now I’ve returned to the library.
It could obviously have been much worse, but my biggest thought is that there is NO WAY that woman should have been out there by herself on that particular night. It really was on the verge of being a dangerous situation.
Now, back to the dissertation…
So there’s this woman in a wheelchair, Suzie, with whom I’ve had two prior encounters. The first was about a year ago when her electric wheelchair ran out of charge and she asked me to help push her home. Home ended up being very far away.
And then there was the time a few months ago that she saw me in the library and asked me to help her write an e-mail. Two hours later, I was still standing and transcribing her lengthy ramblings.
I should note that she is quite disabled (only has partial use of one of her hands) and is rather difficult to understand.
Anyway. Tonight, as I’m walking from the library to grab a quick sandwich, she wheels up behind me and asks if I could help her. It takes awhile, but I finally figure out that she’s having trouble getting over some snowy part of the sidewalk with the chair and needs a push.
I agree (what else could I possibly do) and we are on our way. Note, by the way, that not only is it dark and late at this time, but it is REALLY cold outside. We’re talking frostbite-level cold.
After a block, Suzie asks if I have a shovel. This is where I begin to grow uneasy.
I tell her that I do not, and she then stops outside McDonald’s and tells me that I should go inside to ask them for a shovel. Those of you who know me should be well aware that I do NOT like the idea of walking inside McDonald’s to ask random people for shovels.
I see no other option, though, so I walk in, start a conversation with the McDonald’s manager with an “OK. This is a little weird, but…”, and walk out carrying an ENORMOUS shovel.
After another block, we run into our first obstacle. And it becomes immediately clear that the shovel is going to be of absolutely no use, as this is a big pile of solid ice. All I can do is push the chair as hard as I can and muscle her over the snow/ice bank.
It is only then that I realize that I am going to be pushing her all the way home. The entire stretch of sidewalk is entirely covered with snow and ice, and there are hardly any other people around. My only other option would be to leave the woman to freeze, and I’m not going to be doing that.
So I continue pushing the chair as hard as I can until we get to Park Street. Unfortunately, I just can’t get the chair out of the intersection and onto the icy curb, and we end up blocking traffic and causing an extended round of horn honking. Some random dude eventually runs out of his car and has to help me push the chair back onto the sidewalk.
I ask Suzie how much farther it is, and she tells me that it is still seven more blocks down Park Street. And these are LONG, ice-covered blocks.
I take a moment right about then to finally look down at my hands. Of course, I’m not wearing gloves. And the hands turned numb several minutes ago. Now, though, not only are they painful, but they are purple and oddly wrinkly. It is not good.
I start asking the few strangers around for help. No one is willing to help me push her, but I convince one woman to sell me her gloves for $5. Yes, that’s right. I bought gloves from a random woman on Park Street for $5.
Anyway, this story is already too long, but the saga continues. I push her as hard as I can. One particularly impassable bit of sidewalk leads us to having to wheel down Park Street itself, blocking an entire lane of traffic. And the whole time I’m carrying not only my laptop, but the enormous shovel from McDonald’s.
We eventually get to her house. I walk back and get some free hot chocolate from the guys at McDonald’s. And now I’ve returned to the library.
It could obviously have been much worse, but my biggest thought is that there is NO WAY that woman should have been out there by herself on that particular night. It really was on the verge of being a dangerous situation.
Now, back to the dissertation…
posted by OleNelson at 8:38 PM
8 Comments:
HI-larious. You have brought much mirth to B and I. File under "this would only happen to the bone."
OK. You do realize that in VT, where it is very snowy and cold, colder and snowier than in Madison and Minnesota, it would be advisable to have a pair of gloves. Your own pair of gloves. Not a random woman's pair of gloves. What is this pathology with being ill-prepared for winter weather?
I don't think I'm the only one hoping she'll call this afternoon to say, "Ummm - OleNelson? We need to talk about this mileage on my wheelchair..."
Today when I left Grrrbear's he asked how long it was going to take me to get home. I said about 2-1/2 hours. He was surprised and said it usually took him an hour and a half to get to Madison. I immediately thought of the situation J.Bro is referring to, although Grrr would never do anything like that!
Apparently this story is even more hi-lar-i-ous (is that possible?) when told in the presence of H.Go and the FRs. Let's just say that: a) you _can_ say no to Susie, and b) Our Town is so small that when you block traffic, there's a high probability someone you know is in one of those cars.
I’m on to you, OleNelson! In order to avoid turning in a draft of your dissertation, you’ve chosen to inflict yourself with severely frostbitten fingers! How else would a Minnesotan be silly enough to forego mittens or gloves?
Oh God, I am kind of relieved you wrote about this, because I've had encounters with this same woman, both times including writing lengthy e-mails without much of a point. And in reply to spice, it is indeed possible to say no to Susie, but in doing so you feel like a failure to the human race and losing two hours of your life seems better than the prospect of bad karma.
i had a great laugh at this tale. i'm glad i am not the only one she chases down to write her emails. she asked me to do her a favor yesterday in memorial union in front of about 10 other people. As i turned around to say no, i realized everyone was staring at me, judging me for saying no to a handicapped woman's request. No way am i writing any more emails for her!
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