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Please. Don’t be an asshole. OK?

Excuse me if I sound condescending, but I’m starting to get a little fed up with this issue this week.

The above image  should be familiar to most if not all people. It’s a handicap sign parking sign.

So?

So. That means, unless you are transporting someone who is handicapped, disabled, however you want to call it and you have either a rear view mirror hangie tag or you have handicapped liscense plates, DON’T PARK THERE!!

It’s not the “I’m just running in for a sec to pick up one thing” or the “There are no other spots available” or the “I’ve got too much stuff to carry in” spot. It’s for people who are disabled.

MOVE!

Why am I all up in arms about this?

Why? Because I’ve been dealing with it at our apartment complex ALL. WEEK. LONG!

If you have not figured out by pictures and the mentions of my Italian. He is physically disabled. When we’re out, he travels about in an electric wheelchair (with a zero turn radius. LOADS OF FUN!). Since we tend to run errands together, we take his van, which doesn’t have handicapped tags at the moment. It just has the rear view mirror hangie tag thingie. BUT I do make sure if he doesn’t remind me to hang it up to show we’re parked their legally.

Even if you don’t see the tag hanging from our rear view mirror, the ramp that juts out the side when I’m tossing my Italian into the van (or loading him in . . . however) should be a giant clue.

Which brings me to my next point! Though I’m not quite finished with my first one, but I’ll just sum it all up here in a minute.

Hypothetical . . .

You’re in a parking lot, looking for a place to park and oh, for giggles let’s say it’s the Christmas season. There’s almost NO WHERE to park. Except those slanted lines next to the handicapped spots and you drive a small car, motorcycle, motor scooter that would fit PERFECTLY! DON’T DO IT!!!

You see, you’re really just being an asshole to the person in the handicapped spot who might actually need that space. And maybe they’re not nice like my husband who doesn’t want me to send the ramp into the side of your car and scratch the shit out of it! (Not that I would ACTUALLY do that, but the thought has, more than once, crossed my mind.)

Not everyone who uses handicapped spots is old. Some of us look fairly young and spry. And we are. But we are toting those who do need the spots.

Okay . . . so why I’m up in arms about this . . . really this time.

When we moved into our apartment we asked about getting a handicapped spot. I don’t know what was wrong with the guy we asked but he said they don’t designate parking spots (I think he misunderstood the question). So we put up with parking in front of the building next to us until the property manager noticed one day my Mother-in-law walking back from the two buildings up (where we had to park when the other one was filled. Essentially 2 city blocks) and set up a handicapped parking space for us.

We’ve really had no problems with people parking there . . . I mean when people move in or out they take up the spot . . . Meh . . . No biggie. I can deal with that. We’ve done the same thing when we’ve moved furniture in and out of here.

Starting Thursday a week ago to . . . I guess it was Tuesday? Yeah, Tuesday, because my Italian called about it on the way to go see Dr. Mini-Giant with me. Someone from our building thought they had their very own parking spot.

Ummm . . . NO! Do you NOT SEE THE FRIGGIN’ SIGN? REALLY!

Fortunately, my Father-in-law (who was the last to take my Italian . . . and the van out) was able to park on the other side of the median/grassy thingie that is next to the sidewalk that leads out to the road, so we were still able to load/unload my Italian and utilize the ramp fully.

When I got home after work the spot was empty, she had moved (I’ve seen the driver before, I just didn’t know which apartment she lived in or I would have left a note . . . I would have been nice! . . . asking her to move her car or put up her handicapped tags.) so I was able to park the van in its spot.

YAY!!

BUT! That’s not what really got my rant going. I was pretty much over this. Chalking it up to . . . whatever.

We went to the pool this evening and when we came home there were three women talking and standing around a car that was parked in the handicapped spot!

Albeit, they did leave while we were circling the block, but still! There were plenty of other parking spots open! Can you not park in one of the other spots? Do your legs not work?

Here’s the deal. I won’t take up two of your spots (because that’s what it takes) in the van,  if you won’t take up one of my Italians or other handicapped people’s spots.

Just don’t be an asshole. K? K. Glad we’ve got that settled.

End. Of. Rant.

Have a wonderful weekend!!

 

 

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