Driving is not difficult for me. But due to an affliction I find it difficult to get out of my car, and to stand up and walk once I am out. That is why I sport a blue placard on my rearview mirror. It allows me to park in a spot where I can open the door wide and swing my stiff legs out. Parking close to my destination also helps as I stalk ahead like a man on stilts.
All this sounds good and simple. But there are complications. I am not the only handicapped one in town. There are at least four others that buy their groceries in the same supermarket where I shop, and all four shop at the same time and occupy the four available slots. It does not matter what time I arrive: my four nemesises are at their stations. They are a well-organized team, probably retired marines that know how to synchronize watches. It is possible that they are not always the same four people. They may come in sets of four, many such sets. This may explain why I never get a chance.
So far my placard has been merely an embellishment. The blue color goes well with my car’s white exterior. One day when I have more time I shall cruise as long as it takes. At least one of them, I figure, must eventually finish his grocery shopping trip and come out. But then, he will probably just put his shopping bags in the trunk, leave the car where it is, and proceed to the pharmacy, and after that to the bank. And then, having reloaded his wallet, he will probably walk over to the hardware store. It could take me a long time to inherit his parking space.
Yesterday I had some business at the hospital. The hospital complex has hundreds of parking slots. They are all narrow, unsuitable for me, and they were, I swear, all occupied anyway. No sweat, I thought. This is a hospital where nothing but sick people go in and out. They must be prepared for this and have rows upon rows of “handicapped only” parking spaces. And I was right. They do. But guess what? Not a single open one for me. Cruising around, I finally located a parking lot for doctors only. There was one blue space left and I took it. I remembered that I was told that I could park in any such space, no matter where. And I figured that doctors, if attacked by a crippling affliction, would cure themselves anyway. They would not need my purloined slot.
Obviously a solution for the blue placard parking problem is needed. I suggest a generous reward program. “If you relinquish this parking space within twenty minutes,” the sign at the drug store for example might say, “you are eligible for a free enema. Apply within.”