I never expected a trip to Walmart would turn into a showdown over my wheelchair, with a stranger demanding I give it up for his tired wife. As the situation spiraled out of control and a crowd gathered, I realized this ordinary shopping day was about to take an extraordinary turn.
So there I was, cruising down the aisles of Walmart in my trusty wheelchair, feeling pretty good about life. I’d just scored some killer deals on snacks and was headed to check out when this guy — let’s call him Mr. Entitled — stepped right in front of me, blocking my path.
“Hey, you,” he barked, his face all scrunched up like he’d smelled something bad. “My wife needs to sit down. Give her your wheelchair.”
I blinked, thinking it was some weird joke. “Uh, sorry, what?”
“You heard me,” he snapped, gesturing to a tired-looking woman behind him. “She’s been on her feet all day. You’re young, you can walk.”
I tried to keep my cool, plastering on a polite smile. “I get it, being on your feet sucks. But I actually can’t walk. That’s why I have the chair.”
Mr. Entitled’s face turned an impressive shade of red. “Don’t lie to me! I’ve seen people like you, faking disabilities for attention. Now get up and let my wife sit down!”
My jaw dropped. Was this guy for real? I glanced at his wife, hoping for some backup, but she just stood there looking mortified.
“Look, sir,” I said, my patience wearing thin, “I’m not faking anything. I need this chair to get around. There are benches near the front of the store if your wife needs to rest.”
But Mr. Entitled wasn’t having it. He stepped closer, looming over me. “Listen here, you little —”
“Is there a problem here?”
I’ve never been so relieved to hear a Walmart employee’s voice. A guy in a shirt — his nametag said Miguel — appeared beside us, looking concerned.
Mr. Entitled whirled on Miguel. “Yes, there’s a problem! This girl won’t give up her wheelchair for my tired wife. Make her get out of it!”
Miguel’s eyebrows shot up. He looked at me, then back at Mr. Entitled. “Sir, I’m sorry, but we can’t ask customers to give up mobility aids. That’s not appropriate.”
“Not appropriate?” Mr. Entitled sputtered. “What’s not appropriate is this faker taking up a perfectly good chair when my wife needs it!”
I could feel people starting to stare. Great, just what I needed — to be the center of Walmart drama. Miguel tried to calm things down, speaking in a low, reasonable tone.
“Sir, please lower your voice. We have benches available if your wife needs to rest. I can show you where they are.”
But Mr. Entitled was on a roll. He jabbed a finger at Miguel’s chest. “Don’t tell me to lower my voice! I want to speak to your manager right now!”
As he ranted, he took a step back — right into a display of canned vegetables. I watched in slow motion as he stumbled, arms windmilling, and went down hard.
CRASH!
Cans went flying everywhere. Mr. Entitled lay sprawled on the floor, surrounded by dented tins of green beans and corn. For a moment, everything was silent.
Then his wife rushed forward. “Frank! Are you okay?”
Frank — so that was his name — tried to get up, his face beet red. But as he pushed himself to his feet, he slipped on a rolling can and went down again with another crash.
I couldn’t hold back a laugh. Miguel shot me a look, but I could see he was fighting a smile too.
“Sir, please don’t move,” Miguel said, reaching for his walkie-talkie. “I’m calling for assistance.”
Frank ignored him, struggling to his feet again. “This is ridiculous! I’ll sue this whole store!”
By now, a small crowd had gathered. I could hear whispers and a few chuckles. Frank’s wife looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her.
A security guard appeared, followed by a manager. They took in the scene — Frank standing unsteadily, cans everywhere, Miguel trying to keep things calm.
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People like Mr Entitled get the wrong ideas from people like me. I have multiple disabilities effecting my need for a wheelchair. The one I use a wheelchair the most for is my MOGAD a rare disease with symptoms almost identical to multiple sclerosis. MOGAD attacks the melon in the brain like multiple sclerosis even but the cause is different. I walk into Walmart more or less normally my gate ( or walk) may by a little unusual but I’m over weight and fat people tend to waddle so you’d probably just assume I’m over weight. I then go straight to a wheelchair cart and drive off. Seeing this you’d think I was just fat and lazy. What you wouldn’t see is that your right I MIGHT be able to walk around the store today if it’s a good day but that’s only a maybe a lot of times when I try to walk around the store I get to the back and get to weak to continue sometimes I have enough strength to just leave without shopping, other times I have to seat any way I can including on the floor and rest before I get the strength back to just leave without completing my shopping, other days I may have severe muscle spasms so severe I’m stopped in the wheelchair leaning in weird angles looking like I’m going to fall out of the chair trying my best to be quiet and not disturb others with my cries of pain, unable to move on until the spasms pass, or other days one of my other disabilities may act up maybe today my gout will flare and each step I take will cause extreme pain.. If I go to the store 10 times and not use the wheelchair 8 of those times I’ll run into medical issues of some sort. So I take the wheelchair. I am fine to walk around my house and my yard, doctors want me to use a cane or walker for even that and I do on my bad days, I even use a a wheelchair at home on my real bad days but at home I am as independent as possible with my mobility. The longer I stand the more issues I have though so while I’m ok to walk into the store most days ( somedays I can’t even do that) I medically need the wheelchair to get around the store yet when people like Mr. Entitled see me they believe I’m faking and that leads to situations like told in this story.