Friday

Ron had another bad night.  I keep encouraging him to go to a pain clinic. 

I slept late and barely took a shower, then got ready for work.  We went to work.  First thing I heard "Your machine took my money".  I opened it up and COIN JAM.  Someone put pennies in the machine.  Again.  For the third time.  I don't know whether it is just ignorance (who puts pennies in a vending machine?) or willful sabotage.  I honestly don't want to know, unless it is ignorance. 

I told Ron to give me the wide wheelchair and I sat in it while I fixed the machine.  I had to take out all the jammed coins and disassemble the mechanism, clean it out, and reassemble it.  Then I found a dime stuck where it shouldn't be, fixed that, tested it, works.  OK. 

Then I helped Ron with "his" machines and filled "mine".  It took a while, we came right up to our pickup time.  Got it all done, though. 

We came home and I took a nap.  I was really tired and overslept.  I didn't have time to do my God Time.  I helped Ron get dressed and we went out for fish. 

There's a fried fish restaurant near our home.  It is a family style place, with lots of outdoor seating.  Normally we go earlier in the day, and it is nice and quiet, just office workers taking their lunches. 

It was fine at first.  We got a waitress we like and she was very helpful.  We got our food and it was delicious (we have plenty of leftovers).  I always get a little sad, eating catfish, thinking about Gravy (Biscuit's brother).  Gravy loved catfish.  I used to call it "meowfish" because he would meow so much when he smelled it.  But Gravy is with Jesus now so he's happier. 

Then they showed up, two women speaking Spanish, with two kids in tow.  I knew we would have a problem when they let the toddler loose on the floor.  She ran around, shoving chairs, getting closer and closer to Ron's wheelchair. 

I kept looking at the women, the mother in particular.  The waitress, rather pointedly, I thought, brought out a high-chair.  Put your kid in the chair.  She did, for a couple of minutes, but the baby started whining (because the mother was ignoring, it, talking to her friend, taking selfies, drinking beer, and eating oysters) so they put it down again.  Then it came over and started shoving on Ron's wheelchair. 

That got the mother to pull it away - Mexicans are very superstitious about disabilities and their equipment.  One woman told me if I sat in a wheelchair I would end up needing one.  It's 26 years later and so far so good!  But it just shows the mindset, if my kid touches a wheelchair she will end up needing one.  So they finally pulled her off and sent her in another direction.  She went and bothered a couple of other tables.  And the women kept drinking, eating oysters, talking, and taking selfies. 

Next time, I told Ron, we're coming earlier.  I don't mind a well behaved child but most of the ones these days are feral monsters, only appeased by the use of their parents cell phone.  All they do is scream and run wild, getting into other people's stuff. 

I had one kid actually try to get into the bag I keep on the back of Ron's wheelchair.  I couldn't believe it.  Again, Mexican parents, they freaked out that he was touching a wheelchair and dragged him off.  But bad parenting! 

We came home.  I have to send an itemized inventory of our equipment to the boss, and then do my God Time, before I go to bed. 

Hopefully we will sleep OK tonight.