Monday, July 20, 2009
Monday Morning Douche & A Man With No Legs
I met a guy with no legs once. No shit, he didn't have any legs. I was walking (see what I did there?) through the mall when I first saw him and my initial reaction was:
"Fuck, how does he run?"
And then it hit me: He's in a wheelchair dumb ass; he has wheels!
He was idling at a Cinnabon stand so I decided I'd mosey on over and spark up a conversation with the guy. He looked lonely, and as it turned out random women really don't like to be followed into the Victoria's Secret dressing rooms, which is what I went to the mall to do in the first place. Fuckin' Cinemax.
So there he was resting his, uh, arms, when I coolly strode up to him and kicked off the back-and-forth.
"Nice shoes," I said.
The guy in the wheelchair just glared up at me with a look I couldn't quite place. Was it disdain, or was it envy because his days of sporting a pair of kick ass Crocs like I was were over?
"Excuse me?" said the guy in the wheelchair. I hadn't noticed it before but it was outfitted with a cup holder and wheelie bars. Very cool.
"Uh, how's it going?" I responded. "That's a pretty cool wheelchair."
"Thanks," he said scornfully.
"No, I mean it. It's pretty sweet, and I bet it gets good gas mileage." I nodded and winked at a girl who had approached the Cinnabon stand, and when I did she immediately turned and walked away.
"It's not gas powered asshole," said wheelchair guy. "I have to use my arms to move it."
"Yeah? I bet your arms are really strong. Hey, wait a minute. Arm. Strong. You're Lance fucking Arm Strong!" I cackled and attempted to give the Cinnabon attendant a high five but he just shook his head and went back to stacking the drink cups.
"Seriously," said Lance. "Can I help you with something or what?"
"Not really," I chortled back. I was still laughing at my Arm Strong crack.
"Then if you don't mind I need to get back to my girlfriend."
"Well here, let me help." I noticed the wheelchair didn't have any handles, so I placed my hands on Lance's shoulders and began to push.
"No, it's OK. Really. I can manage." He secured his drink in the cup holder and gripped the wheels with each hand. For some reason Lance didn't seem to like me.
"Are you sure?" I asked. "I mean I'm always willing to help out the handicapped. I was taught that's the proper thing to do."
"Get the fuck away from me," Lance snarled as he maneuvered the chair away from the stand. I was hoping he'd pop a wheelie or do a burnout or something cool like that, but he simply pumped his arms a few times and coasted toward Sears. I think he might have thrown his drink at me as well -- I heard something explode right behind me, but it could have just as easily been the sound barrier exploding under the weight of my sheer awesomeness -- but by that time I had caught sight of a very attractive woman sitting on a bench near the McDonald's breast feeding a baby.
"Alright man, take it easy," I yelled over my shoulder. The woman saw me coming and immediately attempted to change her position on the bench, presumably because her legs started to quiver at the sight of manliness personified.
"Hi," I said as I sat down beside her. "That's a cute kid."
"Thanks," she replied meekly. The baby was vigorously going to town on her ample tit.
"Sure is a hungry little bastard," I said as I patted his tiny head. "Does he share?"