Earlier this evening I was pushing from Holloway to Finsbury Park. You see, I was on my way to my nearest Lidl, which is in Finsbury Park, following a tip off from my Mum that in her local store they currently had cat food that my cat can actually eat.

Me and my pussy are very well matched when it comes to food sensitivities.

What I was unaware of before I set off on my journey was that Arsenal were playing at home. And I was trying to get to Lidl at the same time as the crowds were trying to get out of the stadium. Bad timing.

The number 29 bus was going nowhere, so I decided it'd be quicker to get off and push the rest of the way.

This guy walking in the opposite direction to me stopped and pressed himself up against the railing fencing the pedestrians in. I'm used to this reaction from crip-phobes who can't bear the thought of having to share a pavement with a wheelchair user. Like most people who do this, he watched me as I approached.

Usually though, people resume walking once I (the dangerous, terrifying wheelchair user) have passed. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he didn't. So I looked over my shoulder and he was still staring at me. Obviously at this point I shot him an evil glare. Most gawpers usually take that as their cue to stare at the floor. Not him.

"You're beautiful!" He cried after me.

Which makes the second nutter this week.

First there was the odd, drunk, smelly bloke I met on a number 29 bus coming home from dinner at a couple of friend's house on Wednesday night.

He was asking the usual, boring old "how long have you been in a wheelchair?" crap that all random strangers want to know. Then he said:

"Well, at least you've got a pretty face. If you were single, I'd go out with you."

Obviously, I didn't mention that I am single. I just nodded.

What is it with people thinking that having a pretty face will melt away all access barriers? (He's not the first). Come to think of it - why do only odd ones who think pretty faces remove access barriers think I have a pretty face anyway? Why can't any hot women ever think that?

I'm starting to think the being single is like being unemployed.

You know how the longer you've been unemployed, the lower your chances of finding a job?

I think people look at prospective partners in the same way as employers look at prospective employees.

"Well, they've been on the shelf for a while. Are they up to date with modern techniques and practices?"

Being 28 and having never had a "proper, grown up" relationship I'm starting to feel how I imagine I'd feel if I was still looking for my first job.

"Well, she's never been in this situation before. How can we guarantee she's got the skills to cope? She's never had to use them. Does she even know how to respond to certain situations? Does she know the rules and etiquette?!"

I've had a couple of conversations about this. One person pointed out that "It's also easier to find a new job when you've got one already." A sentiment echoed by another friend when we were having a conversation about polyamory.

"I think polyamory is just unfair... why should some people get hundreds of partners when I can't even find one?"

My friend went on to point out that I'm the only non-poly wheelchair user that she knows. I was pushing over cobblestones at the time, which is about as close as I come these days to intimacy.

Sometimes I wonder how walkies survive without wheelchairs.

I think today I may actually have died of embarrassment if I were not a wheelchair user.

I was in the supermarket. I stood up for a second to reach some cat food off a high shelf. As I sat back down in my chair I heard a tear, and suddenly became aware that my left buttock was colder than my right.

My trousers had ripped down the arse, just to the left of centre. And of course, I was wearing the most hideous pants I own underneath.

My immediate thought was one of relief. Relief that I am a wheelchair user, and could keep my exposed buttock hidden by sitting on it.

This got me thinking about how if I was even more crippled, I'd have been even better off; for if I had been unable to stand to reach that cat food then my trousers wouldn't have ripped as I sat back down. OK, I'd have had to sit there until someone walked past so I could ask them to pass the food. But that's a small price to pay for a warm bum on a snowy day like today.

Some people think that becoming a wheelchair user would be the most embarrassing thing in the world... Ever! Look at all those weirdo's who'd rather be housebound and fully dependent on others just because "Ew! I don't wanna use a wheelchair. I don't wanna look disabled. Gross!"

I would like to run up behind all those people with a knife and slash the back of their trousers to expose their crap pants. Once half of north London has seen their arse, I'd like to ask them then if they still think using a wheelchair would be more embarrassing.

Well that was a strange pop to the shops to buy some toilet paper.

I was waiting to cross the road, and, naturally, with it being Camden High Street, the queue to cross had reached a few layers of people deep.

This woman at the front steps aside to let me cross. Sounds polite? Yeah?

The traffic was still flowing.

I did have to point out to her "It's alright, I'm going to wait until the man's turned green."

I waited for about a minute, the man still not turning green (I wonder if he just caught his girlfriend in bed with someone else? That'd explain the constant changing between angry red and envious green), wondering "Oh, no, I'm not now one of those crips that people moan about that 'give "the disabled" a bad name' am I?" When I got completely outshone...

A guy in a wheelchair deliberately swerves from the path he'd been taking to crash into the side of my wheelchair (also crashing into the leg of the lady who'd moved out of my way); turns to me and calls me "disabled scummy" and swerves off in the other direction again!

I would hypothesise that he mistook me for his own reflection, except, I'm far prettier (which is truly an insult to him if you know just how rancid I look).

I guess at least he didn't call me "handicapped".

Paper bags.

What is the fucking point?

"Oh, well, they're better for the environment cos they biodegrade unlike plastic bags..."

Yeah. Let's save the world by cutting down the trees!

"But, recycled paper."

If I wanted to wipe my arse on one of my old degree essays I wouldn't sent it via the recycling bank.

I did slightly go off the point there, moving from paper bags to toilet roll. But, as far as I'm concerned paper bags are more practical for wiping your arse with than they are for carrying your shopping home.

So, you leave Lush having spent most of this month's pay cheque on ridiculous expensive but oh so pretty smelling, erm, smellies. Can you get the bag to hang on the back of your wheelchair? Can you fuck. 8 out of 10 plastic carrier bags will hang on the back of a wheelchair... But paper bags? I'm yet to meet one...

What can you do? You need your hands to push so you end up carrying the bag home in your teeth, fully reveling in the pain in your jaw from where you need to have your sideways wisdom to be sawn in half to be removed (bone saw in my mouth! What fun. Thank fuck I'll be asleep). Spot the problem? You have saliva in your mouth which is wet. Wet dissolves paper. You seeing my problem here? By the time you get home you're dribbling black ink from the bag, and the handles have disintegrated so nothing but luck gets your goodies home.

This of course adds to my theory that Lush don't want "us" buying their stuff. Don't believe me? Check out the inaccessibility of all their London stores. Covent Garden possibly qualifying for "the most inaccessible store, in the world... Ever!"

And the paper bags is not just a cripple issue. This is Britain! It rains all the damn time! You spend a fortune on smellies, go out in the pissing rain and the bottom has fallen out of the bag by the time you get to the bus stop. You've just spent a fortune on fancy shower gels et al only for some tall bloke reeking of alcohol to tread in them when the bag loses the will to live. His shoes get nice and clean, but, what about me? Maybe that's their marketing ploy so you have to go back and buy more?

"But small children and animals can suffocate in plastic bags!"

I don't have small children and my cat likes to lick plastic bags. Licking paper doesn't seem to please her nearly as much.