This was originally posted on February 25, 2015 at 6:36PM on Blogger.com
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I’ve just walked through the door of the stairway after weight training, cane in my right hand and my favorite blue hoodie—with the words “Chicago The Windy City est. 1837” written across the front of it, the words separated by the zipper—slung over my left arm. There were a group of boys standing there, talking and joking around. I attempted to walk around them, just as they noticed me and started jostling around to try to get out of my way. If they had just stayed still, I would not have brushed shoulders with one of them but luckily that was the only damage done.
As I walked away from them, their voices followed me down the hallway.
“Did you just check her out?” One boy says.
“No!” Another replies
“You so were, I saw you.”
“Alright, maybe.”
“That’s messed up, man.”
There laughter followed me out of earshot and I miss how the conversation resolved though I did hear one of them call the other a jerk…
It Left me wondering, what’s wrong with hitting on the blind girl?