Feeling a little peevish...

I have a serious pet peeve.  The funny thing is, even before it affected me personally it still bugged me...now it just bugs me more.  Let me start with a somewhat humorous story from waaaay back in my college days:

My roommate, Julie, and I both had a psychology class together in the evening in the Tanner building at BYU.  We were living off campus at the time, so we had to drive to class and we were usually running late and in a hurry.  One evening as we cruised through the parking lot searching for a space, we realized we were way later than normal and the only thing open was one handicapped space by the doors.  We didn't even contemplate parking there--fear of getting a ticket?...maybe, but whatever the reason, we ended up almost halfway across campus in the closest space we could find and practically running to class.  So imagine our surprise (and anger) as we approached the building only to watch a little red sports car with California plates go zipping into that handicapped spot....no appropriate license plate, no placard.  I was probably more angry than Julie and decided to make it known.  As we passed the car, I commented (extremely loudly) "Man, when you get out of that car you better be LIMPING!"  I didn't say it right to him...but it was certainly loud enough that unless he was deaf he heard me.  The car door opens and he sticks out a leg with a giant brace--ankle to hip--and a pair of crutches.  Well, that was embarrassing, to say the least.  I took off at a fast clip/slow jog, vacating the premises as quickly as possible, while Julie followed behind laughing hysterically and saying "what do you think he's going to do, chase you?"

So begins my life-long battle with handicapped spaces and the people that ignore them...

This week we had to take Braden to see a doctor in Bountiful (because the government, despite 18 years worth of medical reports from doctors and schools, needed to determine, once and for all, whether or not Braden was ACTUALLY disabled... a long and aggravating story for another day).  We got to the small medical office with a tiny parking lot and found the handicapped space already occupied by a car with no handicapped license and no placard.  I immediately wanted to slash their tires.  I'm sure the only reason they were parked there is because the lot was small and mostly full.  We ended up having to back into a tiny space next to a lawn where we could try and get Braden out and into his chair without any room to park the wheelchair.

Unfortunately, this phenomena does not stop with parking spaces, but also happens other places where seats or spaces have been reserved for those in wheelchairs.  Back when we took Braden to church, it was a common occurrence to show up at church only to find the back bench filled with NON-HANDICAPPED people.  That bench is cut short for a REASON--to accommodate a wheelchair and allow that person's family to sit with them.  I understand that there are other types of disabilities--people have heart problems, or lung problems and can't walk far...but that doesn't mean they can't take ONE EXTRA step to sit in the next bench up--the one NOT meant for wheelchairs.  If we wanted that seat we would have to be at least 30 minutes or more early for church.  Irritating.  There is even a little gold plate on the side of the bench with a picture of a wheelchair.  Don't know why that's so hard to understand.

I have also witnessed this at the movie theater, as a couple tried to get someone sitting in the seats next to the handicapped space in front to trade them so they could sit together.  They wouldn't move...so the woman in the wheelchair got to sit in that space alone next to strangers while the person with her sat elsewhere.  Unbelievable.

I have handicapped license plates and, even though some have urged me to, I don't abuse the privilege and take the space unless Braden is with me and I actually need it.  I hope my kids have learned this lesson for when they start driving my car.  If I catch them in handicapped parking, there's no telling how I might react.