As Promised... "The Handicap Stall"

I had just left the International Airport in Providence, RI and was heading north on I-95.  It was late and there weren't many cars on the road.  Shortly after crossing the MA line I felt sudden regret I had not taken the time to use the men's room at the airport.  No worries as I knew there was one last rest area before hitting Route 128 and heading into Boston.

I pulled into the rest area and found it abandoned of cars.  There was one big rig idling in the well lit lot.  In fact had it not been so well lit, I would not have stopped.

As I entered the men's room it seemed clean (by road standards) and I made my way to the stall.  It looked tight and cramped (I was not small then either!)  

Then I saw it - the private suite of toilet stalls - the Handicap stall.  Large enough to park a punch buggy in, it had the higher (don't soak your pants) seat and those great bars all over the walls.  Short of a hotel room, this is as good as it gets on the road!

I was reading email on my phone, and taking care of one of my God given abilities, when I heard the men's room door open.  But the sound of someone walking in was replaced with a clang and then followed by the faint squeaking of wheels.  Wheels!  

Yes it had happened.  That one thought we all have when we use the Handicap stall.  A handicap person had just come into the room and was heading for my suite!  At first I tried to be quiet, but God pretty much made sure that wasn't one of my gifts.  I heard the handle shake!  It shook again followed by some very choice words.  Then the wheel noise again, but this time it moved away from the partition door - I assumed to calmly wait his turn.  Then I heard it and saw the wheels parallel with my door.  He was climbing out of his chair and pulling himself into the small un-handicap stall!  OMG I have got to get out of here!   

As soon as the grunting and colorful words stopped (his stall not mine) I buckled and headed for the door.  As I opened the stall door I almost tripped over his wheel chair.  I quickly moved it out of my way and ran out the door.  It was such a relief to get to my car and sit.  After the shock wore off I started to laugh just a bit.  

As I reflected on the horror of the moment I saw a woman get out of an older car and start to pace.  She kept looking at the men's room door.  After what seemed like an hour (20-min tops!)  A man wheeled himself from the building still using some of the most colorful language I have heard.  The woman was nagging, "What took you so long?"  My heart sunk when I heard him say, "some @#$!%@! moved my chair across the room and I had to crawl on the floor to get in it!"

As I drove away, the picture still in my head of the man crawling on the bathroom floor; I vowed right then to never use a handicap stall again.  Unless there are two.  I mean what are the odds - two guys one time? 

Be kind with the comments or I won't tell the midget under my truck story!  LOL