I made it to the gym probably three days in a row. Maybe, four.
A few years ago, the shopping center did a parking lot makeover, a design for less accessibility. The property management company does not maintain the lot. I have come to accept the situation and even have a favorite place to park.
Today, a van was parked in my preferred space, so I took the one next to it. A woman using O2 was sitting in the passenger seat, chatting through the window with another woman in a summer house-dress. I remember my second mom wearing house-dresses and thought they were out of style.
I got unbuckled my seat-belt, I always wear one since meeting a fellow who was paralyzed in a car accident that he swore he could have controlled if he had not been tossed out of his seat at the initial impact. I folded my sunglasses and finger brushed my hair. After tying my gas lever to the steering wheel and covering the black part with a towel, I noticed the women were still engaged in conversation.
I used the hand sanitizer, a left over habit from the H1N1 and opened the passenger door. I got out, got Havan, Service Dog Delux from CCI, and closed the car door.
The two ladies were still chatting. Nothing wrong with a little parking lot chat. The passenger was obviously more physically challenged than I am. She was probably going to use the beauty salon or the bookstore, soon.
Havan performed her favorite command, a long down-stay, while I used the treadmill. I do not limp when I am hanging onto the treadmill so I can walk further, with less pain.
The workout was over, we left the gym and started back toward the car. I approached the van with the lady still inside, still talking but the conversation was directed at a person in the driver’s seat. This woman had by now, been in the van on a Montana summer day for a considerable amount of time. She should have passed out from sweltering.
This woman was entitled to the prized parking spot. I have no doubt about this. However, there should be some sort of code of conduct, good manners, or even a rule or two about occupying a handicap parking space if you are not using a store.
Well thank you all for wading through my complaint, some day I will tell you about the construction worker who used a space and when I explained how he could get a permit, I was commanded to perform an oral sex act. Gosh, try to be nice about it.
Keep coming back, I’ve been reading out of town newspapers and feel another commentary coming on, soon!