On
a damp and dark evening Alan rolled his manual chair down the ramp towards his
car as his friend James followed behind, badgering him about the night ahead.
As if it was not bad enough that James' team had just beaten him at the
wheelchair basketball, he was now going to drag him out to the Temple Bar.
It
just wasn't the same anymore and he didn't really want to go. Nothing was
really the same since his accident two years ago. If only he hadn't
offered to drive all of his friends home from the nightclub that night, he
wouldn't have ended up in the ditch that night. Instead he would have
safely fallen asleep in his cosy bed.
Ever
since then, he has had to live with the consequences; two useless legs.
Now in his late thirties nights out are an endurance test rather than
enjoyment. The stares and inconvenience of slowly trying to force his way
through a crowd took its toll on what he used to find an enjoyable experience.
Then there was the fact that he just couldn't feel the same thrill as he
just couldn't believe that any woman would now find him sexually attractive.
But
he had promised James; so he would go. It was the least he could do in truth;
James had stayed a loyal and true friend throughout his stay in hospital and
his subsequent rehabilitation. Childhood friends, he had encouraged him
to reintegrate into society. Alan may not have even taken up the
wheelchair basketball was it not for James' endless ramblings about how he
needed to keep fit despite being stuck in a chair and perhaps even more
importantly his enthusiasm to get involved too.
So
Temple Bar in some crowded pub it would be...
