For an overseas flight I had ladies’ stockings on my stumps which allowed me more space and a little ventilation inside the sockets of my legs than the normal stump stockings.
For a single male, purchasing the stockings the day before had been a wierd experience. As I took my power chair through the hosiery aisle, my space became more restriced by overhanging product. I saw the type of stockings that I was after, but it was out of my reach.
I asked a lady shopper to obtain a pack for me. She asked, “What size does your wife take?” She was more than a little puzzled when I said that they were for me. I am sure that she had visions of my being an aging cross-dresser. As she handed me the packet, she did so with averted eyes, and a hurried scamper to get out of my presence. However the checkout operator knew the stockings were for me, asking whether I was sure that I had gotten the right colour.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment