Fuckface: A Gimpy Monologue

picture of raley's supermarket
The origin of the scattered cans

Okay, so it’s occurred to me that many people who visit the blog haven’t exactly taken the time to check out what I’m currently writing about. So I want to reiterate, that while some of the material may be reinterpreted from either my life or the lives of others that contribute, these are meant to eventually make it to the stage. These are not personal rantings, but rather monologues. A while back, I posted a list from somewhere else of terms defined as being derogatory toward persons with disabilities, and some viable alternatives. Some of those alternatives were swearwords. I thought it would be fun to use those as the basis of a few of my upcoming pieces. This is one such piece.

 

I was taking a trip to the grocery store as I had done about 100,000 times before; I traveled of Mack Road to the local Raley’s supermarket. This particular day was a day on which you could fry an egg on the sidewalk, and on the way back, you could probably stick it in a sandwich and eat it as a snack. Yes, this day was hot! (The last time I was up here, talking to you on this stage, some of you got a little upset in my use of the word retard. I hope to remedy that by the end of our little conversation) I got to the store pretty much like any other day, with very little trouble and without incident. I was proud of myself, a victory for Captain Gimpy. I bought what I like to call gamer food; food that takes very little time to prepare and minimizes the interruption to my digital addiction, any one of you would’ve done the same. I hung the plastic bags from the back of my chair like a backpack, looking like a hobo schoolboy with a bag full of cans.

 

As some of you may or may not know, even the most seemingly flat and level sidewalks can feel like murky terrain when traversing them in the chair of wheels. And this day, I was to meet my nemesis head on. I was rolling along as fast as I could, I was hoping to make it back home in 15 minutes, jump in the bath to extricate the sweat from my clammy skin. The nastiness of Hawaii like humidity was starting to make me feel a little weird, let’s just say I had to “adjust” one too many times and I was beginning to make passersby just a tad uncomfortable. Now back to my nemesis, the dreaded crack in the sidewalk. I slammed into it full force, going face first into the pavement, luckily, I caught myself. But on this particular day, my nemesis had with him a sidekick, a cohort if you will… It brought with him public indifference and apathy. And I found myself in a situation where I was consistently thinking people must be both coldhearted and retarded, my groceries were sprawled all over the sidewalk looking like a tornado of bad luck had decided to make its presence known in a single instant. Some of you are offended by the word retarded or retard, despite the fact that the people driving in their cars that day, even the people on the bikes were all apparently so. But I understand your objections and I apologize, but what about this? Fuckface! Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? 🙂

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