“This sip-and-puff, stop-and-go, make-sure-everything-is-up-to-code-with-the-appropriate-number-of-government-mandated-ramps-and-lifts-and-whatnot-type behavior is really starting to piss me off.” An anonymous coworker confessed. “At first I was like, poor Jerome, all crippled and shit. But now I’m like, maybe I should maim myself. A raise AND a primo parking spot? That’s just plain crazy.” Nearly every employee raised his or her hand when asked if they were upset by the promotion. The only person who didn’t raise a hand was the recipient of the preferential treatment, recent quadriplegic Jerome Whitehead.
“Where’s my promotion?” A guy from accounting asked, demonstrating full ambulation by performing a bit of the ‘Stanky-leg’ dance. “I’ve been walking through those doors for 22 years and get nothing in return--apart from a decent paycheck.”
“These damn cripples have got it easy!” Someone chimed in from the back. “They let them run marathons in a wheelchair!”
Whitehead, not yet comfortable enough to take a figurative stand against the backlash, sipped out of the meeting and puffed his way into the new “handicapped executive” washroom just off the main lobby.
