Friday, 13 February 2009


“I'm popping out to the shops and I've got to buy a train ticket,” said Polly casually. “Do you want to come?” I hadn't been out for a while so I said yes. “Oh good,” she continued. “The parking is terrible at the station.”

Eventually, after I'd legitimized Blue Badge parking outside the station, we ended up at Polly's favourite secular cathedral, Ikea. Faced with the choice of the restaurant or grabbing a quick hot-dog, I was left to decide while Polly went to find a Zulgag or bag of some kind. Aware of time constraints I decided on the quick hot-dog. When Polly returned, triumphantly clutching her haul, I detected a slight disapproval at my dining choice, but was unsure why. I had been given the “no, no you decide, I really don't mind” authority to make the choice, so I was puzzled by her reaction (as usual). Minutes later I understood.

The tables around the Ikea in-house hot-dog stand were without chairs. Polly was left to eat standing up while I was the only one in the whole area with a seat. Truth be told, I hadn't even noticed the absence of seating. I imagine it must be the wheelchair equivalent of the able-bodied person failing to register the flight of steps into a building. The less things matter to you the less likely you are to notice them. Mea culpa.