Once upon a time, when I worked at a Big Alabama Bank, I had the misfortune of joining a group that included a woman I'll call Petunia. Petunia was 6' tall and very heavy. She liked being big and wanted to be a bully, but deep down she was a coward, as most bullies are, and lacked the courage to truly get in anyone's face. So she was a passive/aggressive bully.
Petunia drove a big-assed Dodge Ram truck with 4 doors and a big old chromed bumper. She was much too lazy to actually use the truck to haul anything other than her fat ass, but she enjoyed the way she could bully other drivers in traffic with it. That was the whole point in having it. It was worth the 11 mpg she got with it just to have that power to push random people around, especially random male people.
Petunia HATES male people.
Petunia has been married 4 times in her 40 years, which is a lot of marriages in a short span of time when you consider that it is highly unlikely that she started her first marriage prior to turning 18. But then that whole hating male people thing is likely to be a large part of the reason behind all her divorces. That, and the fact that she is totally and completely selfish.
For Petunia's fourth, but probably not final marriage, she managed to snag a blind, black man. He can't see the Mountain of Me that he's married to, and she plays him for a sucker and a meal ticket by taking full advantage. She talks to him in a tiny little girl voice, trying desperately to sucker him into believing that she's a cute little thing, rather than a great big pig rolling in his bed. I suppose she's got him fooled. She certainly thinks so.
Petunia is not handicapped. She has some minor arthritis in her knees from being so fat. I have minor arthritis in my knees from playing sports, getting injured, and having a few surgeries, so I know what it's like. But Petunia has a son who works for the U.S. Government and she managed to pull a few strings to get herself a Handicapped Parking tag for her big old truck and her big old fat ass.
Every day, when Petunia comes wallowing into the parking lot at work, she goes right up to the front and parks in the handicapped parking spaces, right next to the VPs of the bank, who have their own privileged parking spaces, too. In fact, the VPs' privileged parking spaces are likely a large part of the inspiration for Petunia's quest to acquire a handicapped parking decal. She likes to feel superior and important. She likes to pretend that as she's pulling into the handicapped parking space, it's really a VIP parking space like the ones next to her, and she's a big-shot.
Bit shit - big shot. Whatever.
On one occasion, our boss was in town and invited us all to go to lunch. He was in his Porsche and couldn't take us all, so Petunia ended up driving. If she felt any shame at all at being caught misusing the handicapped parking, she certainly didn't show it. In fact, she seemed proud of it. But then, asking a narcissist to feel shame is like asking a rabid dog to feel compassion. It's a waste of time.
Recently, Petunia was diagnosed with obesity-related diabetes. I tried to feel compassion for her, but I was unable. No, I'm not a rabid dog. But I used to watch here stuff her face with chips and cookies each day, all day, as she sat in her cubical listening to music and searching the internet for information on how to get her bosses into trouble. I've seen her stomping around the office, without the slightest hint of a limp or pain. I myself limp on occasion and experience pain in my own knees as the weather changes. I used to watch her as she sat in her cubical, writing emails to Human Resources or upper management complaining about any number of male bosses above her, in hopes that she might get them all fired and take their place.
I have a friend who has Multiple Sclerosis. He's in his mid-30s now and has had it since he was 18. It's gotten bad over the years. He's a big guy, around 6'4". But with his MS he can barely manage to walk from his car to the store. He has a handicapped parking decal on his car to help him for this reason. He truly needs it. He often has to deal with ignorant, but well-meaning people who see him walking from his handicapped parking space and assume he is simply misusing the privilege. They scream and shout at him, sometimes even becoming violent.
Oddly, no one ever says anything to Petunia about her blatant abuse of the handicapped parking decal. No one criticizes or questions her selfishness. She doesn't need it, but she happily uses it. My friend needs it and has to use it, but total strangers constantly jump all over him about it. I suppose it's because he's a man, and people, no matter how "liberated" they may claim to be, assume the worst of a man, but the best of a woman. Ironically, this assumption is precisely what Petunia relies upon to stomp and bully her way through life.
Sometimes I wish something bad actually would happen to her knees so she might truly need the handicapped parking decal. That would seem fair to me. Wouldn't it seem fair to you? I wonder if Lorena Bobbitt or Mary Winkler is available for a little contract work? I'll bet they would get off for it without half trying. I know if I were on the jury this is one case in which I would gladly let them go.
You have read this article disabled /
handicapped /
pseudo-disabled
with the title Blogging Against Disablism Day 2007 (one day late). You can bookmark this page URL http://thebohemianbunny.blogspot.com/2007/05/blogging-against-disablism-day-2007-one.html. Thanks!
