Planning for the wrong thing

A friend of mine is having a book release party, but I am not sure I can go.

And it isn't because she's too young to be an author. Lisa's my age, so it's cool. I am not jealous (well, not much).

I even RSVP'd that I'd be there, but that was before I openly declared myself the biggest dork in the world.

I say "openly" because it is not that big a surprise -- I do have shelves full of action figures -- but I do like to maintain a facade of coolness, no matter how thin.

I got the Evite and saw it was a cocktail party at Chez Solomon. "I wonder if the restaurant is accessible?" I thought.

That is one of the biggest annoyances of being disabled: You have top plan everything in advance. Can I get there? How? Can I go to the bathroom there? Can my service dog come? Where's the curb cut? Will someone be there to assist me? Someone I trust?

I could go on and on.

I got Mom to call Chez Solomon to check on accessibility. She hears better on the phone than I do.

Apparently, Chez Solomon is just a person's home, not a restaurant. I still would have had to check on accessibility, but I feel so foolish for not realizing that it was a home. Apparently, my mom and the husband had quite a laugh about it.

I am not sure why actually. It doesn't sound d so horrid now that I read about it, but I cringe when I think about it.

Just buy her book.