There were two handicapped men on my bus this morning: one temporarily—his left foot was encased in a cast inside a hefty boot, and he had a small scooter on which to kneel while it healed, rather than using crutches—and the other had a nice motorized wheelchair with a padded headrest and was maneuvering it into the handicapped seating zone like a pro.
Despite his ease and familiarity, it took a few minutes to get everyone arranged. Two female passengers had to be shooed out of the seats reserved for the disabled. The man with the broken leg had to switch sides and arrange his scooter out of the way. Finally, the driver had to ensure the man in the wheelchair was settled safely, with all the appropriate hooks and straps and seat belts arranged just so.
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