I made a mental note of the rather large 15+ passenger van in the Wendy's parking lot, but the only thing I really thought about it was that the gas mileage on that thing had to suck. I was more focused on getting my blindingly bright jacket off and stowed under the seat of my scooter, and getting inside where there was, hopefully, air conditioning.
Already waiting in line were several people, most of whom were developmentally delayed or disabled; there was a heated discussion going on about how badly a few of them NEEDED a Frosty. I was tempted to interject that it was hot enough outside that a Frosty surely was a need and not just a want, but then one of the women--I'm guessing about 25 and with Down's Syndrome--turned and looked at me; she squealed and bolted right at me, grabbing my right arm and hugging it tight...
...whereupon she planted a big kiss right on Thumper's face.
This Thumper, BTW.The rest of me didn't matter much at that point.
Her caregiver was mortified, and pulled her away apologetically, but it was all right. I didn't even mind the ensuing squeals and her friends pointing and practically chanting Thumper Thumper Thumper.
I admit, I ate quickly to get out of there and away from the pointing and whispers of "It's Thumper!" but it was funny.
It sure beats the rude stares and off handed "God, that's tacky" comments I sometimes hear.
Fair warning, though, if you spot me and run up and kiss my tattoo, I'll probably lay you out flat.
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