You know, I'm not very fond of the word "normal." I think that's mainly because I don't fully understand the term and it's uses. What makes a person normal? What makes a person abnormal? When those questions are asked you're bound to get a different answer from every person, I'd bet my entire workshop on it. Therefore, in my opinion, normal does not exist. It is merely a word that people wrap themselves in, thinking that it is an armor, an armor that will shield them from their problems. Whether or not we want to be, we are all abnormal. And it is nothing to be ashamed of.
I'm sorry, was I rambling? I've been told by many people that I tend to do that, heh. You see, there are so many things that I want to say that sometimes I tend to say them all at once, as soon as they enter my mind. You could call it a strength or you could call it a weakness. Call it what you will, I haven't made up my mind on what it is. There I go again! So, you've obviously come here for a story, yes? I myself enjoy a good tale now and again. The lives of people are so fascinating, that's one of the reasons I opened my little business, to meet people. Would you like something to eat before I begin? There's some chicken in the fridge...
At the age of three years, I was diagnosed with a mental disease known as Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. ADHD for short. This means that i have a slight problem with things such as concentration and sitting still, hence my tendency to ramble. One would think that such a disorder would make life increasingly difficult, but was the exact opposite for myself and my parents. A blessing in disguise, in fact. My inability to pay attention to one thing allowed me to be exempt from school. This resulted in me being home schooled by my father, who taught me only interesting things, like mechanics and physics and such. I was so beguiled by these subjects that I found that I could actually force myself to concentrate on them. So, atleast my parents knew that when I grew up I would be able to find work for myself and for a while life was lovely. Then there was the accident.
While on the way home from the market, my father's auto mobile was involved in a terrible crash. I was never allowed to sit in the front seat, next to my father. That seat was always my mother's and I thank the good Lord every day for the fact that she had chosen to stay at home. She would have been crushed had she been sitting in that seat, much like my legs. I had the horrible habit of putting my feet up on the seat, so that my upper torso was behind the driver's seat and my lower behind the passenger's. All I can say about the second party in the crash had been... not in his right state of mind. The accident itself is quite painful to remember so, to be brief, his auto mobile cut ours in half and crushed my legs with it. This resulted in the amputation of my right leg above the knee and my left leg above the ankle. Sounds particularly gruesome, does it not? It was, there was so much blood. I pity my father who had to see me like that and then explain it to my mother. Ah well...
I was in need of prosthetic legs if I ever wanted to walk again and, being of a middle class family, the cost of a good prosthetic promised to cripple my parents aswell. Thus, I had to settle for two wooden legs. I would be able to walk atleast, but with a crutch. And would never run or climb or jump. That sounded the most horrid thing to a 12 year old boy, but you must know that I was and still am a very determined person. I turned to all the lessons my father had told me about mechanics and applied a bit of physics to it. Then, I went searching through the scrap yards for a few month. Soon, I had all the materials I needed and soon after that I had a new pair of legs. Metal legs that are powered by... Ah, thought I would tell you my secret now, didn't you? You sly fox. All you need to know is that From the day I put them on until today, I've been running and jumping like any other person. Although I do keep a cane with me at all times, just in case.
So here we are 12 years later. Quite the abnormal person, aren't I? Oh, I'm sure you're just as abnormal as I am. Anyway, that terrible incident lead to my current profession. Inventor, mechanic, tinker extroadinaire! My profession then lead to more money for my parents and when they were settled I had enough money to purchase this workshop for myself. Where I'm headed from here I cannot tell you. Maybe you can tell me?
