I’ve had old men quizzing me in the M&S food carpark about why I’m using a disabled bay. Old ladies getting out of their cars to make sure there IS a blue badge on the dashboard. Car park attendants walking slowly past my car checking my credentials. And then, then there are the traffic wardens. They love to make sure that I’m not committing blue badge fraud!
A couple of weeks ago, on christmas eve, on the way back from treatment, I stopped off at some local shops and threw the car in one of the in a street space outside them. See, I’m doing my bit, shopping local. I’d popped to get some beer (a couple of big hitting DIPA’s and some sours, if you’re interested!) when Jim called to ask me to go get some bits from the cheesemonger across the road.
I popped back to the car with the beer so I didn’t have to carry it far, then I jogged across the road for the cheese. When I say jogged, I mean I did that silly run you do when someone is letting you across in front of their car, not an actual jog, more like a strange start to a triple jump with a little shuffle at the end. I got some glorious cheese – one specifically for eating with a strong beer! The beer and cheese pairings were on point that night!
But when I got back to my car there was a parking attendant waiting for me, to check I’m eligible to use the blue badge. I’d seen him when I dropped off the beer, checking tickets, but didn’t think much of it. But there he stood, waiting for me, asking me questions, quite aggressively about my blue badge, wanting to know what right I’ve got to be using it – wanting to know what’s wrong with me!
It’s just another fun side effect of this world I’m inhabiting. Being quizzed about my eligibility to what small perks there are to my current situation. I guess all it means now is I’m going to have to perfect a kaiser soze limp (also, side note – am I allowed to reference him, I just don’t know)