We attended a dinner Saturday night at our credit union. It's a once-a-year meeting thing for all members, with free food, and the opportunity for a 1% increase in the interest rate of a certificate of deposit. This was our first time attending, but my sister the ex-mayor's wife and her husband go every year. They tipped us off to the interest rate thingy. Apparently, I don't read fine print on the newsletter.
Anyhoo... we got there early to get a good table. There was plenty of parking on the street. It's angle parking. Farmer H snagged a slot in front of our credit union, less than half a block from the event venue. It's on Main Street. There's a sidewalk in front of the businesses, and a perpendicular peninsula jutting out from the sidewalk, where a crosswalk starts. So technically, the parking spaces were in the area under a giant L that has toppled forward, with that peninsula of concrete being the short leg of the L.
Next to that peninsula was a handicapped parking slot. It has the wheelchair painted on the pavement. No mistaking a handicapped slot. To its right is a an area about 3/4 the size of a parking slot, painted with blue diagonal stripes, with a smooth ramp rather than a curb to get onto the sidewalk. We were in the regular parking slot on the other side of this striped walkway.
You might recall that Farmer H is not the most precise driver or parker. In fact, he always ends up with my wheels parked on the white line of the parking slot. CasinoPalooza was a nightmare for me, trying to get A-Cad's door open all the way to get in. If the car next to you is parked correctly, you're still not getting that door open if A-Cad is on the line. Farmer H would have to back up, clear of the other car, and wait for me to open the door to get in. I wasn't having that on Main Street.
"You're on the line. Someone will park next to us, and I won't be able to get the door open. You can't back up for me to get in, because you'll be out in traffic."
"I'm not on the line."
"I can see it right here. Cheat over into the blue zone. It's no big deal. That's just a walkway. Then I'll have plenty of room to get this door open."
"I'm not parking there! That's the handicap spot."
"It is NOT! The handicap spot is the one next to the concrete. This is just a walkway, with the ramp."
"No. It's part of the handicap spot! It's for people with a lift on the side of a van. I'm not parking there and blocking someone in a wheelchair from getting out!"
"You won't be blocking them! Look how wide that walkway is. They'll still have plenty of room if you just go about a foot into it."
"No. I won't do it."
Farmer H DID back up and straighten A-Cad. Even moved over a little. But the driver's side wheels were still within the white lines of our own parking space.
"I hope nobody parks too close to us. I won't be able to get in."
"You'll get in. But I'm not blocking that wheelchair spot."
"You know, I've NEVER seen a van park and let somebody out on a wheelchair lift. EVER. Not in my whole life. And I'm pretty old."
"They do it all the time! I saw on on Facebook just today!"
"Seriously? What's that got to do with this specific parking space? That wheelchair person is gonna be out of luck. Because all the stores are closed now, and this hall with the dinner has no ramps. Look at it! Both sets of those steps. They're pretty steep, too. It's going to take me a while to get up them. No way is anybody in a wheelchair getting in there."
Farmer H had no answer for that. Only that I was hard-headed. Which wasn't really an answer pertaining to my question.
Of course you know what happened. When we came out two hours later, in the rain, a car had parked too close to A-Cad. Had its own driver's side tires on its own white parking slot lines. I could get A-Cad's door open one notch. I could fit in between, but not get my knee bent at a sharp enough angle to get in the car. I need that door all the way open.
"Well. I can't get in. I guess I can walk up to the credit union drive-thru, and you can pull in there to get me."
"No. I'm backing up."
"You can't. There's traffic."
"I'm pulling over at an angle, in this walkway."
Seems to me that such a problem could have been remedied by doing that in the first place, like I had
Oh, and funny thing. There was a four-door pickup truck parked in that handicap spot.
NO SIGN OF A HANDICAP LICENSE PLATE, STICKER, OR PLACARD.
4 comments:
Did you really think he would listen to you? You have to build up to these things and let him think it is his idea to park so that you can open your door.
Kathy,
Yes, I really did think he would listen to me. Because I know he didn't think about the traffic thing. He's just so used to backing up for me to open the door all the way, from all those times he DOESN'T listen to me! I thought the traffic warning would get through to him.
He will never come up with that idea on his own. He only thinks about himself. Shocker, I know!
What a dilemma. Not being able to easily get in or out of the car is bad enough, but having to back out maybe or maybe not into traffic is worse. on the other hand, I do agree with Hick that space is for wheelchairs or other mobility devices and shouldn't be parked on. At any time. But he needs to learn to park within the white lines not on them.
River,
If he'd just park badly on the OTHER side of the space, it would be fine, as long as the car next to us would park in the center of the space. Maybe that other car was leaving room for someone to get the passenger door open, too.
The handicap space didn't matter, anyway, since a non-handicap truck parked there.
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