Handi-parking

Tuesday was a good day. Funny, as frustrating as it was two days ago, yesterday was pleasant and enjoyable.

There don’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for the way a day goes, it just rolls along, rocky or smooth. So, I try to wake up with the same sense of optimism that I had when I was “in my life” before all of this happened but sometimes I lay in bed, still wiped out from the events of the day before and pray that this new day will be different.

Yesterday was a beautiful fall day. The sky was blue; the leaves are changing color and rustling in a breeze that’s indicating falls approach. Maybe that had something to do with how smoothly the day went-or not? Maybe it was “just a good day”. Hell, they can’t all be bad, right?

After I finished up the work I had for the day I sat with Miss Cathy on the sofa to hang out for a little while. We got to talking (rather, she talked and I listened) She told me that she wanted to go grocery shopping at a particular store for veggies so she could make “greens”, a very southern and very tasty combination of mustard, collard and turnip greens with onions, jowls (don’t ask) and neck bones for flavor. I said, “Lets go now!” quite spontaneously and we did.

It was a lovely drive to a new part of town for me. I had the windows down. The wind felt good on my face and it helped muffle the sounds of Miss Cathy’s non-stop commentary on everything from the amount of traffic to pointing out where an old family friend used to live. I would just nod my head occasionally and make a sound like, “oh yeah?” or “really?” or “hmm” to keep up my end of the “conversation”.

The grocery store was situated in a large, new strip mall that could have been located anywhere in America. You know, the ones that are so popular now, they’re all full of the big box stores and fast food joints and a large wine warehouse-depending on if you live in the bible belt or not.

The strip mall also has the requisite amount of handicapped parking spaces right in front of all the shops. Have you noticed that there seems to be more and more rows dedicated to handicapped parking these days. I used to wonder-who are all these crippled up Americans? And why do they rate prime parking? Now that I’ve joined the ranks of the hobbled elite I don’t wonder anymore.

You’d think that having a handicapped tag for driving Miss Daisy we’d have it made. But no, but no-now that I have the ability to be part of the handicapped “in crowd” more often than not I find myself on the outside. I’ll drive onto a lot to find that ALL of the spaces are taken.

Wow! How is this possible? Are there really this many people with special needs out shopping? More often than not, whenever we go shopping it seems that the infirm, obese, wheelies and walkers have all gotten there before us. Inevitably, I drop Miss Cathy at the front of the establishment and go find a parking space with rest of the civilians, walking past the handicapped spots looking at them with envy and longing, pretty much like I did when I was teenager and all the cool kids got the best spots in the auditorium for assembly and I’d have to quickly walk past them (for fear of being spotted and made a target of their ridicule) to sit waaaay in the back, off to the side in the “geek gallery”.

But, sometimes I get to roll onto the parking lot and get a prime spot, right in front. I always remember to display my handicapped tag on the rearview mirror and “able-bodied-ly” walk around to hold the car door open for Miss Cathy so we can toddle into the store together.