The Queen of the World lives in Bugpit. I had been unaware of HRH's exalted presence before today, when Bob the Client had a doctor's appointment in Death Central Medical Building. Apparently, Bob in his wheelchair and I with my limp cut too close to HRH's royal path during our beeline to the elevator. Because, what should we hear next but the following.
" What the fuck is WRONG with people! Fucking cutting in front of other people and blah blah blah [insert your favorite invective of choice here, it's fairly interchangeable]. " And ON and ON and ON as her consort, who looked like he was about to slash his own wrists from embarrassment, dragged her out of the building.
Bob and I chose not to confront the Queen, feeling that no good could come of attempting to reason with an insane woman. However, we did feel that she presented an entirely accurate question. What the fuck IS wrong with someone who would throw a screeching fit at a mentally retarded guy in a wheelchair being pushed by someone with an obvious limp, anyways?
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