I broke my ankle a few years ago, right before a well-known celebrity was going to a talk at my college. Knowing it would be at the basketball pit where there was nothing but stairs, my friend who worked for the event organizers gave me a pair of VIP tickets so I could sit down on the floor.

The walk to the floor of the basketball stadium felt like a 90 degree slope. It was so steep! But I managed to walk down with my crutches and cast and enjoy the talk.

Walking back up afterwards was the huge problem. I started walking with my friend very slowly up until I started stumbling.

A woman, who I assumed worked at the stadium (she was wearing school colors), waved me over as she stood behind an individual in a wheelchair. The individual in a wheelchair looked like he very much needed this chair. He wore a helmet for protection and he seemed pretty tired after the event.

“Do you want a wheelchair?” The lady asked me. I assumed, again, that she worked for the school, handing out wheelchairs for people who needed them.

“Sure, that’d be great, thanks!” I told her.

She then very viciously told the man in the wheelchair to “GET UP, MARTY.”

He looked at her pitifully and her knees started wobbling as he tried picking himself up.

My friend and I very quickly shouted, “no no no that’s okay, we can walk up!”

“Nonsense!” the Woman said as Marty was now standing up (well, hunched over weakly, but standing up nonetheless.

She patted the seat of the wheelchair as I still adamantly refused. “It’s okay, sweetie, get in.”

I had no escape. I couldn't wobble away from this situation. So I sat down. I had stolen someone’s wheelchair and had earned a first class ticket to hell. Not to mention that the lady in question was extremely old. She had to take a running start to push it up, denying my friend the privilege of pushing me up in a stranger’s wheelchair. She walked behind with Marty as he struggled up the slope.