It was a Monday night at the Olive Garden, and the question was asked by an incredibly eager busboy. He nodded at my white cane as I swept it in front of me, while he ushered us to our table. I was dining with one of my best friends, Emily, that night. We hadn’t seen each other in such a long time, and I was looking forward to our catching-up. I was already weary from my incredibly busy day as a new social worker with an ever-increasing caseload. And the only question I wanted to be asked by the Olive Garden staff was, “Would you like to sample our wine tonight?”
Instead, I was asked that “What’s it like to be blind?” question.