The disabled parking police

He he he… Told Rosie I was going to blog about my days as a disabled parking police person this morning.

“I remember those days!” she replied, having a bit of a chuckle into her doughnut (probably as relieved as fuck that she’s about to leave this madhouse for university). “Especially that time with that man outside….”

Yeah, there were a lot of times over a few years. Times in which I would act on my rage at people’s wanton use of disabled parking bays, especially outside supermarkets.  Times of remonstration, abuse, swearing and gesticulations. What drove me even more insanely angry were the excuses people used;

Oh, it’s after 7pm so I thought these bays were open to everyone….” Ahh, yes. I forgot about  the disabled curfew. All those disabled people, safely tucked up in bed before dark. (Thank goodness).

I’ve got a baby and two toddlers…” Er, yes, and there are some spaces with a pushchair picture over there look.

I’m only popping in for one thing…” Butt out of the bay, buster and WALK a tiny bit further.

The time Rosie particularly remembers was outside Mothercare.  A big fat shiny Mercedes cut ahead of us into the bay closest to the shop.  A man got out, leaving a woman in the front seat, and started walking towards the shop. I quickly parked, clamped a screaming and hysterical LB under my arm (for tales of LB and shopping see here) and steamed after him. Rosie trotted along behind.

“Er excuse me! You’ve parked in a disabled bay”, I said at the entrance of the shop.

He looked at me with barely disguised contempt. “My wife’s got a newborn baby”.


“I’m just coming in to buy a cot blanket…”

“Well park in the baby bays. Not the disabled bays,” I thundered.

“This is closer…” he said, pretty angry.

“Closer for what?!” I said, totally infuriated, “Your wife ain’t even got out of the car?  What about people who need to park closer rather than want to because they’re lazy, thoughtless, selfish good-for-nothing bastards?”

“Well I don’t know why you’re so angry about it. I mean you haven’t got a disabled child anyway…”

Well, let’s just say RED.RAG.TO.A.BULL.

Those were the days.

I largely gave up my policing role after a hysterical conversation with my supervisor who told me how she used to hide in bushes to catch people parking in the disabled bays on campus. We sort of decided then that our guerilla tactics were probably not really achieving change.

I still think it’s shit and unacceptable behaviour though.

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