So went to Venice today. With a borrowed wheelchair. And, sadly, it was still one of the most miserable experiences of my life.
We were invited with some other folks from base to go to Carnivale before it ended. With the masks and everything, and we were excited. Managed to get there after a lot of trepidation.. and about 4 hidden flights of stairs in the Vicenza train station because we couldn't find any elevator.
Cue several hours of not getting to actually SEE MUCH OF CARNIVALE.. and instead spend several hours of me hopping up out of the chair and hobbling over bridge after bridge after bridge of stairs because the "wheelchair accessible bridge" that some have attached have steps that are multiple inches in height and everyone and their mom has decided that is the lane to take photos of the water in with their selfie sticks. The group we were with wanted to go eat at Hard Rock Cafe.
After tons of stairs, tons of rude people openly staring at me, knocking us around, commenting, stopping two steps in front of us, etc. etc. etc. we finally arrive... only to be told it's UPSTAIRS again. Yay. But there's an elevator! And we go up in it to be sat right in front of blaring speakers. Which kind of really sucks when you're eating and bringing on worse POTS symptoms just because you needed food.
After an overpriced lunch, I had an IBS attack with cramping I can only liken to how I imagine certain stages of labor to be. In a bathroom downstairs with two teensy stalls and a teensy waiting space as big as those two stalls with women banging on the door every ten seconds as I'm crying in pain and trying not to pass out. Get stared at and hear, in English, "Fat American" as I leave the wash room to stagger outside.
Cue us leaving the group and getting more and more upset as we're shoved and knocked around by total strangers and treated like garbage that needs to be moved. My only comfort is that since it's such a huge event, and a touristy area since we were out on the island, is that most of the folks being awful weren't from there. The only rude ones I can verify likely are from there were running a stall Nate wanted to buy a tricorner hat from who was so fucking rude/pushy that we literally decided to buy nothing and leave rather than have him keep harassing us/writing up a receipt and adding to it when we were literally just window shopping at that moment.
I managed to get my penis pasta for my friends, and we got gelato before heading back for the trains. I was still getting tons of stomach pain and needed a toilet but, whoops: wheelchair malfunction, huge lineup and we didn't have any spare change to let me in. All our bills were too big and what we had we needed for bus fare. Long train ride and long bus ride home, and we finally fucking made it.
Italy. You're gorgeous. Most of your people are nice, I like to believe. But jfc you have a serious mission to destroy my body, mind, and emotions. It just makes me wish I never had to go outside even when I WANT to, because my paranoia about being viewed as fat or lazy or worthless or less than something was kind of validated. ono
