22 February 2005

I got my revenge on bicycle boy, hooray!

For those not familiar with the back story, I live in a completely inaccessible bedsit, and the guy in the room next to me has a tendency to clog up the entire hallway with his bicycle.

For the last nine months, I've has to leave my wheelchair in the boot of my car, and hobble into my building, because I can't fit my chair through the obscenely narrow door into my "flat," (a side note: I should've gotten an almost equally inaccessible council flat today, but, of course, with Lisy Luck... I'm still here in the cupboard with the mice).

Well, today I couldn't leave my chair in the boot of my car. It's snowing (fucking weather. I wanna live in LA. Except for the earthquakes. And everyone has fake boobs (even the lesbians)), and me walking into the house would almost certainly wind up with me riding in an ambulance what with the being rubbish at walking and having the bones that break easily and all. To remedy the problem of having to walk into my house, a pretty lady did offer to let me sleep in her bed. And for some reason I said "no"!?! Damn my love of laying in bed as late as possible in the mornings and not wanting to have to travel from South to Northwest to East London tomorrow morning.

I had no choice but to bring my wheelchair into the building. Well, I did have a choice, but I doubt the paramedics would've been that attractive. I've never pulled an ambulancewoman before (well, once, but we weren't in her ambulance at the time), but I didn't fancy the broken hip as a chance to change that.

Of course, once my chair was in the building, I couldn't get it through my door. Well, I could take it apart to fit it through the door. But then where would I put it? It's not like my habitat is exactly spacious. I know I've shared bedding with my wheelchair before (hey, 1 person and 1 wheelchair in a two-man tent - underneath is the *only* option), but I thought the tyre marks on my white sheets might take some explaining. Not that anyone ever views my bed other than me. But, Sod's Law and all... the one time you have skid marks on your sheets...

So, my chair is clogging up the hall. Ha Mr Bicycle Boy! He's got some logic problems to solve in the morning to work out how to get his bike past my chair. Knowing Lisy Luck, I'll exit my bedroom in the morning to find one giant tyre mark going straight over my seating. Or my wheelchair out in the snow.

In the meantime I'm going to gloat. Yes Bike Boy... I've gotten revenge. Put that in your bong and smoke it (yes, I do recognise that smell seeping out from under your door).

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