Friday, May 26, 2017

Scoffing At The Law Since The First Caveman Wrote It On The Wall

They're everywhere, you know. The scofflaws. The people who don't seem to give an eff about rules. People who think the world is there to accommodate them.

I came out of the doctor's nurse practitioner's office Wednesday to see THIS:

That is NOT a parking space, people! NOT! Which is noted by the yellow stripes in that area between the real parking spaces. Which do not have yellow stripes, but no stripes at all, save for the dividing lines between the other real parking spaces.

I normally don't show a picture with random people's license plates in plain view. But if somebody goes to all the trouble to decode this one, it makes me no nevermind. You scoff at the law, you may get the crazies.

Let the record show that this is a row of handicapped spaces. There are probably 8-10 along that row, and facing them, another 8-11, since it curves, and there is a bit more room. I know it's a hospital, people. And there is a high likelihood of people needing the handicapped spaces. That's why there are between 16 and 21 of them right there, and ANOTHER 10 at least on the road leading in, up against the sidewalk.

Yes, that looks like it might be a handicap placard hanging from the mirror. BUT...do you see handicap plates? Let me answer for you, because I walked right by it to get to T-Hoe: NO. The plates are not handicap plates. Now one would think that somebody who regularly needs handicap parking would get handicap plates for their vehicle. My favorite gambling aunt has them. That's how I make sure it's her little white car parked up front when I meet her for lunch.

But I HAVE heard people say that they use a relative's handicap placard when they go someplace, so they can park in the handicap area. In fact, Auntie has offered me HER handicap placard when we go somewhere. But even though she is with me, and even though I use the handicap stall because my knees don't like to bend and I need the handrail...I will NOT park in a handicap space. Because I'm not handicapped enough that I can't walk a few extra steps. If I can get around a casino, I can walk from the last row of the parking lot. At least at this place. So I refuse Auntie's offer, and drop her off at the door, and then park in a regular space.

You know, even IF every single handicap space was taken when that scofflaw parked, they could surely have ridden the free trolley from a space farther away. Or, if they have mobility issues and can't climb on, I'm sure they could have parked up by the front door and told the information desk that there were no spaces, and they needed to park there briefly.

Seriously. You can't just decide to park where you want because the space you want isn't available. What's next, somebody driving inside the automatic double doors because all the striped non-spaces are full?

2 comments:

fishducky said...

When I used to play, I was always fascinated by the number of handicapped spaces at the golf course!! Why would they need them there?

Hillbilly Mom said...

fishducky,
Why, indeed? Unless maybe they all scheduled a lunch meeting there to discuss a differently-abled golf tournament. Our local golf course has a pretty good restaurant. I think I went to somebody's retirement party there. I certainly wasn't playing golf!