Coming back from surgery last month, I was in Seattle in a wheelchair, taken by elevator with an elderly woman also wheelchair-bound to the ground level, outside.
Cold, spitting snow. Dark of night. Strange, new world. We were told to climb into the back seats of one of those electric airport vehicles. If my new companion felt anything like I did, she felt belittled, less of a person, damaged goods, different than the other healthy folks who were well-able to walk outside to the awaiting regional jet.
Up for a good surprise?
The driver climbed into the front seat behind the steering wheel. She was obviously an immigrant with an accent that would led me to place her birthplace somewhere south of our southern border.
With a big smile, she turned around to back up the vehicle, right arm over the top of her bench seat and she asked us, "Why do cripples travel?"
Was this a joke? Is there a punch line? Was she serious? Was she trying to say something in a new language that meant something else in her native tongue? My companion was speechless. I think I asked the driver, "Are you serious?"
Well, bless her, she definitely tops the list I have mentally stored away for the most bizarre question I've ever been asked!