Just before we crossed the border we stopped at the Duty Free. The primary reason for the stop was that I had to pee. We pulled in and I got out and then rolled down a hill, the enjoyment of that was tempered by the knowledge that I’d have to go back up, and then entered the store. We found the bathroom at the furthest reaches of the store and then Joe went shopping for a suitcase (a 24 case of beer for those of you who may not know Canadian idioms) and I wandered around.

They had an amazing display of liquour bottles and I was looking at some of the fancier bottles. I may not drink but I can still look at the bottles and recognize some brilliant designs. I was browsing. Then, feeling watched I discovered that I was being watched. A couple, a few years younger than me, were paused with their cart looking at me disapprovingly.
I looked up at them and they weren’t at all embarrassed to be caught out watching a random stranger in a public place. In fact they seemed relieved, now they could get their message to me. He pointed at the bottles while she wagged her finger at me. WAGGED HER FINGER. Like they had the power and the right to tell me that I should not be buying booze. Like they were fulfilling a public duty to keep cripples from intoxicating drink.
It made me want to wrap my lips around a big bottle of Knob Creek and take a swig.
I didn’t but WTF.
I joined up with Joe and then went in search of peanuts. I wondered if they’d approve. All I could find was maple syrup flavoured peanuts, and if there are Canadian Nuts, they aren’t maple flavoured.
The constant monitoring, the constant need of some non disabled people to staff our freedom is remarkable.
I went nutless into the car park, partly because they didn’t have want I wanted, plain old salted ones, and partly because instead of doing anything at the finger wag I just turned and left. They probably felt that they had successful.
Part of me hopes they they drive away with maple nuts stuck to the roof of their mouths.
I mean, shit.