2001-01-09 - Evening
It happened today. The first "You�re such an inspiration to us all" moment of the new millennium.
Setting: the parking area in front of my apartment building. I�m getting into my van to go to the pharmacy. As I open the rear doors and lower the lift, this woman from Meals on Wheels (my building has a lot of old people--there�s always either a Meals on Wheels lady or an ambulance out front) walks up. "So that�s how you get around!" she says in this so-perky-I-immediately-want-to-kill-her voice. "You�re spunky, you are!"
Yeah, that�s me. Spunky.
I wish I could tell you that I have this vast repertoire of snappy comebacks all ready to go for remarks like this, but I don�t. The truth is, I�m usually so stunned by the comment�s insipidness that I lose the power of speech and end up just grinning like some medal winner in the Special Fucking Olympics.
My friend Ed thinks I�ve got too much attitude about this sort of thing. People are just trying to be nice, he says. Maybe, but telling a gimp that he�s an inspiration or "spunky" or whatever ranks right down there with telling a black man that he�s a credit to his race or telling a lesbian that "two women together is such a beautiful thing." Even if it is, the dude saying it still deserves to have his nuts ground up and force-fed to him.
OK, on second thought, I did get in a good zinger a couple of months ago. I was at the supermarket, and this doofy middle-aged guy at the checkout counter kept calling me "little buddy"--about a half a dozen times. I finally told him, "You can flatter me all you want, Skipper, but you�re not getting my coconuts." He didn�t get the joke, but the gay couple standing behind me thought it was a scream.
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