My alma mater was and still is designed to enable disabled people to get around campus and into buildings and classrooms with ease. They have elevators, ramped entrances, ramped street corners, and every method imaginable to make the college experience easier. In fact, the entire town was set up, mostly, for the disabled, especially wheelchairs.

We students became part of their lives in a way by being available to help as best we could, such as the time a girl was rolling too fast to make the turn on the sidewalk and flipped out on the pavement. She was fine. Three of us nearby put her back in business and went on our way.

But there were some people who were… obnoxious. On my way to class on the second floor, I headed into an elevator just before a guy rolled up in his wheelchair. He just sat there right outside the door while I held it open for him.

Guy: “Why are you on the elevator? You can walk. Why don’t you use the stairs?”

I stepped out, holding the door open, and looked all around the entrance to the elevator.

Me: *Glaring at him* “I don’t see any sign that says it’s for disabled people only. So, are you getting in or not?”

Guy: “You can use the stairs. I’m not riding up with you.”

I pushed the button to close the door and went up to the second floor, leaving him fuming downstairs.

I am in a history class at college. Our professor has a doctorate in history and is usually a very serious and solemn man. One of our classmates trips and falls on a step in the lecture hall, but she’s fine.

Classmate’s Friend: *Jokingly* “Help! Is there a doctor in the building?”

Everyone looks at the professor with a smirk.

Professor: *Without skipping a beat* “I’m a doctor who can’t fix your broken bones, but I can amuse you with stories about the Civil War until the ambulance comes.”

I recently started working at a new job after moving over an hour away for college. In this famous Chinese fast food restaurant, we serve you behind a glass case and you can watch as we load your food. We used to allow samples but have stopped due to health concerns. As far as I know, we will not be resuming this practice.

A few weeks into my job, I had a customer reach UNDER the glass case, grab one of the meat pieces, and then eat it. From the pan and all.

I stared at him in shock as he laughed and said:

Customer: “Hey, gotta sample somehow! I’ll have some of this.”

I reminded him of our health concerns for not allowing samples and he simply laughed again.

In my eighth-grade year, I went out for football, much to my disliking. I only wanted to play basketball. During a practice, I threw a running, diving block, and the end result was that I had my spleen ripped apart and had to have emergency surgery to remove it.

Fast forward to my sophomore year. Our football coach started getting on me about going out for football the next year. I would simply tell him I wasn’t interested, and he would let it go for the time being.

His class and my class shared the same lunch period. For several days, he bugged me about playing football. I was 6’3″ and the second-fastest kid in school. I didn’t want to play. He started making snide remarks about my maleness, among other catty remarks.

Finally, I had had enough. He said something that set me off, and I pulled up my shirt right there in the lunch room and showed him my eleven-inch scar.

Me: “This is why I don’t want to play football.”

His jaw dropped, and he just stood there staring at my abdomen as I turned to walk out.

Later that day, my psych teacher told me what happened after I left. The coach sat back down with the other teachers still hanging out at a table and asked what that was all about. It was explained to him what happened to me in eighth-grade football and that I had been injured so badly that I’d had an hour and a half to live.

The coach never brought it up again. But, he also never spoke to me again for the rest of my high school years. Oh, well.

I am working at the customer service desk of a grocery store.

Customer: “So… my friend did something stupid and he’s missing his finger.”

I blink and take a moment to process what I just heard. Before I can start my response, there’s a call from one of the aisles.

Voice: “Found it!”

Customer: “Oh, never mind!”

The customer rushed off in the direction of the voice while I furiously called for my manager and possibly a cleaning crew.