The one time I felt bad about was at a mates barbecue, drink was involved. His daughter was about 3 at the time, and they had a little scottie dog. I got one of the left over cremated sausages and selotaped it on where my finger should be and sat on a deck chair with my hand hanging over the arm. The dog was sniffing about as they do, did a double take when it got to my hand, and then started chomping away at the sausage.
My mate's daughter spotted it, thought the dog was eating me and freaked. His wife went nuts because the daughter wouldn't go near the dog for ages after, banned me from the house because she said I was a t**t (fair one tbh) and Alan wasn't happy because he was getting it in the neck.
Everyone else who was there or heard about it after thought it was funny, but that just made things worse. It was funny though.
4rse end of nowhere down some 'B' road near Stoke Golding I got a puncture in the van. The scissor jack collapsed just as I'd remove the flat and my finger got crushed under the brake drum. As I was on the passenger side in a lay-by even if someone had passed they wouldn't have seen me.
So it was out with the Leatherman, cut through the stringy bits and mushy stuff to free my hand, wrapped it up in a manky cloth and walked to a village to ring a taxi (pre mobile phones).
That's disablist that is.