Everest

So, Manchester Ska Bar. Where to begin?

We wanted to buy some trading cards whilst we were in town, as we started playing with them again since The Music Man moved in. Made three stops trying to find some. Travelling Man - huge step to get in the shop, was quite difficult. They didn't have any of the cards we were after, told us to try Forbidden Planet. Forbidden Planet - huge step to get in the shop, was quite difficult, then the things we were after were downstairs so Rambo and TMM headed down, leaving me stranded in front of a Twilight stand. Thanks, guys. They didn't have any of the cards we were after but the guy downstairs said to try FanBoy3. FanBoy3 had an even bigger step to get in, and doors too tiny for the wheelchair to get through. More annoyingly, they had card tables set up inside, and a back room with a bunch of guys playing D&D. Apparently they have D&D games going roughly ten times a week. I've been looking for a D&D game to join, but that one just ain't gonna cut it.

Then we headed over to Ska Bar, Rambo and TMM slaloming me in and out of scaffolding and deliberating going up and down kerbs rather than ramps because they 'need practice'. Ugh. Ska Bar itself - huge step at the front entrance, tiny door; many steps at back entrance. Got out of the chair to get in there, and to walk down the two flights of stairs to the basement where the gig was. Didn't really mind at all at this point as I was actually capable of walking and had someone else to carry the chair down the stairs for me. If anything, felt guilty because I'm such a hassle and people have to carry chairs down stairs for me.

Met The Music Man's new band, they seemed pretty cool. Had a chat with them before gig actually started.

Rambo and The Music Man decided they were hungry, wandered off to Burger King, leaving me stranded and lonely watching over everyone's stuff. Came back without any food for me. What the fuck? Got shouted at a little bit as I'd expressly asked them for food before they left. Fuckers.

Gig starts. I try to sort of dance-where-I'm-sat, knee goes out. Won't go back in. I need the loo. Toilet is up three little steps but with a knee out I don't think I can handle those steps. Takes about half an hour to convey to Rambo that I need his help because he keeps buggering off or just plain ignoring me to talk to other people and I can't shout at him over the music and he's ignoring my puny attempts at poking and I can't poke any harder or hit him because my wrists are crying at me. Eventually get him to help me up the steps but wrench my shoulder out trying to lean on him because he's too damned tall. Get back to sit down, stretch my leg out carefully so my knee won't hurt, manage to pop the hip out doing that.

Now, as I'm sure I've explained before - when my hip is out, it can't take movement. No bouncing, no jiggling, no nothing. No fucking vibrations through the seat from ridiculously loud music at gigs. Slowly getting more and more excrutiatingly painful. No way to escape vibrations except two flights of stairs. Now I start to really, really, really hate the amount of stairs at the Ska Bar. Fighting back tears at this point but failing miserably - leaking quite consistantly down my face. Rambo eventually notices at about the point that I decide that the stairs will have to be mastered as I can't take these vibrations anymore and the gig's likely to go on for another three hours or so.

Takes me looooong time to get up those stairs. Many people passing me, keep having to stop while they do so as I'm leaning on both walls in order to get anywhere so take up the whole stairwell. Manage to thoroughly screw up both of my wrists by the time I reach the top.

Anyway, I then have to spend the next three hours upstairs by myself, bored out of my mind, listening to shite music whilst Rambo and TMM carry on having a good time downstairs. I'll remember to bring a book next time.

When the gig was over, Rambo and TMM refused to call a taxi because the taxi ramp at Piccadilly Station was 'right there', so we head over. Going up and down many kerbs and over cobblestone streets. With a dislocated hip. Taxi goes down bumpy roads.

I won't recount the Everest climb I had getting upstairs to bed when I got home. Needless to say, I had two dislocated wrists and the shoulder, hip, knee and ankle had all gone out on my right side. It took a long time, and much, much crying.

I really need a fucking bungalow. Or a flat. Or just a house with a downstairs toilet so I could have slept on the sofa and not had to go up the stairs at all. Or maybe even just some working painkillers.

...At least I didn't feel like a fraud for being in the chair yesterday though. It's a small upside to falling apart at the seams, but at least it's an upside.