Miss C was on pretty good form and looking better than I have seen her look for a while (change of meds). Off we went for a rather splendid lunch in Bakewell (her pheasant and me brisket with yummy accompaniments/trimmings.
Then the fun started. I had taken care to establish that the establish DEFINITELY had disabled access and toilets and was told that it did. The short ramp up (and later down) from the car park was at an angle of about 30 degrees
Up was a struggle, down risked ski-jumping into the road.
But before that she want to go to the loo before we left for the drive back to Sheffield.
Disabled toilet my arse
I got her and her wheelchair jammed in the door and there was no way of getting her in there and getting the door shut. I fetched the Manager who suggested taking her into the regular Ladies. Not keen on this, so a lady member of staff was summoned who checked the coast was clear and guarded the door. Situation here was even worserer. A helpful customer suggested we used the disabled toilet
She offered to help, so off we went again. A former nurse, she offered to help Miss C get upright "whlle your husband helps you get your knickers off"
Me: I AN NOT HER HUSBAND
Miss C (simultaneously): HE IS NOT MY HUSBAND
Helpful customer says, "Well I can help you get them off but we haven't been introduced!"
Meanwhile screens are produced and I vacate the area
Then the ski jump. We make the manager help out who is not apologetic.
A grand day out with added knicker removal
Miss C has a scheme which I will report soon in the Pets thread
