Don't Park Here
Why is it that people who would never ever park in a disabled parking space have no difficulty using the disabled toilet stall. I don't know how many times I've had to sit in my wheelchair, desperately needing to weee while some normate is doing the crossword puzzle in the comfort of the bigger stall. Ummm, they didn't make it bigger so you could turn it into your own little apartment. They made it bigger for me and my chair.
I've taken to announcing my self as I sit in my chair. I talk loudly to Joe, who's usually with me, about having to wait for the disabled stall when all the other stalls are free. Usually that gets them to hurry up a little bit, finish the job and get the paperwork done - but sometimes it has no effect. Selfishness, now that's a disability.
But that's not what this rant is abouit today. I had to stop at the gas station on the way to work this morning and use the washroom. I'm over fifty, sue me. Anyways, this particular station has a separate disabled washroom like they have in the UK. I watched a non-disabled guy walk out, he saw me sitting there and smiled at me.
He actually smiled at me.
Like he was a nice guy, greeting me and all.
But when I went into the bathroom, that nice guy had urinated into the toilet without lifting the lid. There was a sea of urine. I had no choice I had to wipe up his pee so I could ... you know ... void myself.
I've got one choice in stall. I can't go from stall to stall to stall looking for a clean one like I sometimes had to do when I could still walk well. Now, I need the bars, I need the higher toilet, I need to wipe up some strangers leftover pee in order to toilet myself.
So if you don't park there ... don't park here.
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