A Bad Day With My New Walking Stick
Judy Conlin
Somehow the continuation of this story got in the paper before the beginning of the story. So here is how it all began:
My doctor kept asking me why I didn’t use a cane since I was constantly walking like a duck. I bought eight of them, but none made me feel secure. In fact, I felt more likely to topple over and then be knocked unconscious by the falling cane. To be perfectly honest, that is not the only reason. I am a little vain, and I did not want to be seen walking with a cane like an old woman, even though I am one. Then I fell on the cement in front of the Dollar Store. Even though it crushed my vanity, I pride myself on not being entirely stupid, so I ordered a pink walking stick.
My first outing with it was Tuesday when I had a meeting at Theater Tallahassee from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. I carried my stick in and placed it on the stage in full view in case I needed it. I then crossed the room to sit by a friend of mine. She was in a snit because she found a food spill on her top and thought that meant she was turning into an old woman who spilled her food on her clothes. Since I have had food stains for years, as well as showing up at meetings with two different-colored shoes or my slacks inside out or various other calamities, I did not think this was a major incident. In fact, I was a tiny bit gleeful to find out she was getting up in years also and I wasn’t the only dribbler.
She kept fussing and went into the bathroom to try to wash it off. When she returned, I couldn’t believe my eyes. At first, I thought she was wearing some kind of a microphone, but then I saw she had her eyeglasses clutched in her teeth. No one else noticed, so I began laughing and pointed this out to the group. She defended herself by saying she had to wash her hands and couldn’t lay her glasses down on a soiled surface, so she stuck them in her mouth and forgot about them.
After class, I had to go to Whole Foods and return a package to Amazon (a frequent task of mine). I parked my car, grabbed my package and started toward the entrance. It was rainy, and I had forgotten my walking stick. I went back to my car and got it, now traveling twice as far just to be safe. I turned in my package and, as always, had to tour around the store to see if I wanted anything. My walking stick is not a cart-riding stick and slithered out of the cart right in front of an older man’s cart, which hit it and came to an abrupt halt. The man did not fall, but several items in his cart flew out. I apologized, helped him pick up his stuff and retrieved my stick. It did not leave the cart again, but if I got too close, it did knock a few things off the shelf. I decided to check out quickly, as I now had two bags of stuff I probably did not need.
I got to my car and went to my next assignment — a lab that I’d gone to the week before, but they didn’t have one tube they needed, so they asked me to come back after theater on Tuesday. I found a parking place and was going through the door when I remembered I didn’t have that stick. Back I went and got it. Inside the lab was a long line. The check-in lady’s computer wasn’t working, and she couldn’t get folks checked in. I stood there as long as I could, leaning on my stick, but my knees were giving out.
“I don’t think I’m in the computer,” I said. “Jamie said to just come in and I could go right in and wouldn’t have to wait.”
That was the magic word. The office lady called Jamie and sent me right in, and in a few seconds I was done. Jamie mentioned my new stick, and I said I wasn’t used to it yet. She thanked me a hundred times for coming back in, gave me a big hug and told me not to forget my stick.
I went back to the office and realized I left my purse in the lab. I went back to the lab, and the door was locked. I went back to the office. She called the lab. No one answered. She had me go back to the lab with her, where she started beating on the door. No one came. I think they were eating lunch in the back. The lady stopped beating and told me she thought she could go through X-ray and get into the back of the lab and let me in. I waited and waited, and she didn’t come.
Suddenly, an annoyed Jamie opened the door. I know she thought I was the one beating on her door, but I couldn’t squeal on the lady who was trying to help me, so I simply said, “I remembered my stick, but I forgot my purse.”
She wasn’t amused. Just then, the office lady arrived from the back. I grabbed my purse. Jamie did not thank me this time. She did not hug me. I don’t think we are best friends anymore, but the office lady smiled at me benevolently as I sailed out of there on to my next errand, which you’ll have to read about next week, as it won’t fit here.
All I can say is my first day with my new walking stick did not get better. It got worse.
Stay tuned,
Judy
