Let's revisit the Gas Station Chicken Store, the place where only 1 percent of the people using the lone handicap parking space actually have a different-abledness. It's not their choice. It's due to the other 99 percent of the people who park there showing no regard for the people who actually NEED that space.
Tuesday, during a lull in the rain, but still with high winds, I pulled onto the parking lot of the Gas Station Chicken Store to see a tiny pickup truck parked in the handicap space. Of course there was no handicap license plate. No placard hanging from the mirror. A not-quite-tubby guy, with a red beard, stood beside the truck, smiling and chewing the fat with a guy parked in the FREE AIR space, putting air in the tires of his red pickup truck.
Well. No way was I going to park across the lot at the moat. No use waiting on these yayhoos to finish up their chat and make either of those two spaces available. I proceeded to 10Box and its lottery machines.
Once again, somebody figured their needs came before those of the handicapped. Why not park in that handicap space, rather than behind the red pickup, beside the dumpster and alley, to wait to use that FREE AIR hose? After all, the handicap would surely be staying home rather than come out in the rain and wind to buy something at a convenience store, right?
If only I was as brave as Blog Buddy Kathy! Then I would have pulled up alongside Redbeard, and put down T-Hoe's window, and asked, "Do you need this handicap space? Or are you just waiting for the air hose?" Nothing too confrontational. But Mrs. HM is a chicken. Blog Buddy Kathy would have made the point much more clear, I'm sure!
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