Is thoughtlessness a disability?

I had a bit of a Seinfeld moment this morning. I was visiting a client in town and looking for a parking space near their building, unsurprisingly there were none, except for the vacant disabled parking zone, so I contented my self with parking around the corner. While I was waiting in the foyer I cursed my timing as the three spaces in front of the building all became vacant, along with the disabled spot, but what happened next left me absolutely bewildered.

An elderly lady, who had a disabled parking permit, drove up and parked in one of the newly vacated spots, leaving the disabled zone empty. What’s the deal with that? Why go to the effort of getting a parking permit and then not use it? This little old biddy had effectively taken two parks because the disabled zone is unavailable to the majority of road users. Why on earth did this women not use the parking space that had been especially allocated for her? Is this some kind of conspiracy between people with parking permits? Alternatively, if she feels that she doesn’t need specially reserved parking in accessible places then hand back your little blue pass you selfish old cow!

The whole thing reminded me of the skit on The Late Show, where centrally co-ordinated old people went out of their way to piss everyone else off. I watched the geri to see if she had a walkie talkie to confirm her anti-social behaviour with HQ, but I had to leave for my appointment before I was able to get any hard evidence.

14 thoughts on “Is thoughtlessness a disability?

  1. The bitch! It’s just like when you offer your seat to an wonky elderly person on public transport and they not only refuse but also glare at you like you’ve positively insulted them.

  2. Don’t you laugh, I’ve seen you seethe at the behaviour of rude wrinklies before. I have no doubt that this women also jumps the queue and pretends to be deaf if you attempt to politely explain that she should wait her fucking turn.

  3. The older you get the more ‘priviliges’ you get and these disabled parking stickers are ‘gold’ for the oldies. My late father had one but do you think I could talk him to lending it to me whenever I took him to the footy at Moorabin back in the 80s? Uh-uh, even though there was always a vacant disabled car-space right outside the ground, I had to drop him off at the gate and then go and find a car park somewhere, usually about 1 or 2 ks away!

    And he didn’t even leave it to me in his will!

  4. In Sydney they are trying to crack down on people ‘borrowing’ disabled parking tags from their relatives so that they can park for free all day in metered spaces. As for your Dad Ray, did he simply not like you? Using the tag on your own car when you’re transporting the tag owner is legit.

  5. The older you get the more nerve you must get. I regularly had elderly clients who would ask for an ‘old persons’ discount on their conveyancing when you helped sell their $400,000 property, or cheaper wills as though their wills were easier because they were older. Quite the contrary, young people couldn’t give a stuff about whom would receive the porcelain, hand painted ‘koala bear on branch’ clock. The oldies would take hours explaining to you how some particular grandkid always commented on how lovely grandma’s Franklin mint collection of Chuck and Di’s wedding was and that the kid should get that, but as the kid was getting the plates, it was only fair that the other grandkids got something too so they wanted to bequeath the nest of side tables that they were given by Aunty Maude before she died (92 she was; still be around today if it wasn’t for that doctor from the colonies) to Shania and the crocheted tea-cosi to Darren; but Darren wasn’t quite right because he was spending a lot of time with his close friend, Julio, so the tea-cosi was to be vested in a life tenancy to Shania’s mum until Darren left the theatre and got married to a ‘good Christian ‘girl. Of course the tea-cosi would be part of a set so we would then enter into discussions about whether Daren would mind if the set was split which would result in the client deciding that they should go and have a chat with her sister, Gladys, because she was the executor of Beryl’s will and knows all about these things…. Fuck me!

    Dave, you should have waited for the old bird to get back to the car and told her that the car was yours. Someone with your skills could have convinced her she had Alzheimer’s in 10 minutes.

  6. I don’t know Dave, maybe that explains it. Come to think of it my parents were even reluctant to put the sticker on their own car for quite a few years … until they realised it wasn’t a bad idea I suppose.

    As for the lady in Albury that prompted your post, she’s probably just a bit senile. It’s sound like the sort of thing my mother would do. She’s not disabled but she’s still got the sticker on the car, even though Dad died 5 years ago! I don’t think it’s deliberate she’s just … old!

  7. Have you noticed the latest trend in disable parking – ‘this space is reserved for parents with prams’? Quite often I have been tempted to use the space even though my daughter is not in the car (surely her car seat is evidence enough) but have driven on because there should be ethics even in packed car parks.

    Not surprisingly, many things annoy me; perhaps the greatest concentration of annoying things is in the car park. There is nothing more annoying than: People parked crookedly and taking up two spaces; shopping trolleys left in spaces; people getting to their car and taking half an hour to pull out as they do their makeup, adjust the seat, put a cd on, do up their seat-belt etc; people waiting for a space in the middle of the road so you can’t go around; and the worst of all, waiting for a car park, with your indicator on and someone else races in and steals the space.

    Whenever I have been a victim of the last one, I am always determined to go straight to Coles and buy a $2.00 tube of super-glue and squeeze it into the offenders car door locks, or on the petrol cap and wheel bolts so they won’t notice straight away but will be totally fucked when they are out of fuel or stuck on the side of the road with a flat.

    Of course I never do, because at the end of the day I am a coward. I am; however, an elitist so I propose a higher standard of testing before people can get a licence. There should be ethics questions attached to the licence test. It’s simply not good enough to just recognise what a stop sign is; you should also have to know when you are pissing other people off. You should also be barred from getting a licence if you have named your child after a pop star or a tv character, such as Britney or Dawson, because if you don’t respect your own kids, as if you are going to give a damm about me (although kudos to anyone who will name their kid Ringo).

  8. You should also be barred from getting a licence if you have named your child after a pop star or a tv character

    What if they’re obscure TV characters, like my own progeny Buster Boy and the Troll Princess? If I’m taking a hit over this I demand that we include children named after characters in foreign language films that have had huge cross-over appeal in English speaking markets. Is that a petard of your own making that I see you being hoist upon Lee?

  9. Named not so much for the character but rather the sound of the name. In any event, I was careful to limit the categories to pop and tv. If you took your boy’s name from the cardigan wearing, plaid panted charcter that I’m thinking of then hand over your licence now, please. As for the troll princess her initials are fantastic and credit to your family for selecting TV drama that reached far greater heights than its cousins on the big screen; although by that reckoning, she could have been a Meadow in which case Mrsdave would also be walking to the store.

    I suspect; however, that her name was claimed from a particular blonde who was once fantastic, but went to Mandyville to become a cliché. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that the naming was based on first impressions. I take this lenient stance just in case they ever release a Weekend at Bernie’s II style sequel to the French film.

  10. Old disabled mole.

    That’s like I was at the library yesterday and this woman decided to use the only book-return computer to check out 10 fucking books, when there were four check out terminals sitting free. I was in a hurry, so of course she totally fucked it up and had no idea how to use it. Damn the bitch. Damn her!

    The other one is when you’re in a hurry to get a train and want to use your EFTPOS card at the machine, and three that take just coins – which machine does the fucktard with a pocket full of coins who has no idea what ticket to buy use?

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