Have a placard?
You know who you are. The ultra-skinny Persian Princess driving the Mercedes SUV today in the Marshall's parking lot. You were wearing skin tight black Seven jeans with a brown sherling jacked and Come-Fuck-Me boots.
Um, has anyone explained to you are what handicapped parking is all about?
If you see a spot that says "Handicapped Parking", you don't get to park in it just because you're a rich ho with a fabulous Blackberry that you're screaming into at top volume in the middle of the parking lot. Try to look down at the parking space. Do you see that blue spot with the picture of the wheelchair? Guess what that means? It means you can't park there because you don't have a placard. See the blue sign right in front of your car? The one that says "Don't even think of parking here unless you have proof you're handicapped? That is for morons like you that think you're so special that you can just roll your Nazi-mobile right in there anyhow.
Oh, and when someone who DOES have a placard tells you that you can't park there because you're so obviously not handicapped, nor do you have any proof that you are, you aren't supposed to scream at them in Persian. You're supposed to move your freaking rich-bitch status symbol car and let a handicapped person who has a legitimate claim to the space park there.
Let's recap what a handicapped space is for. People who are handicapped have trouble walking. They get special parking spaces because they need to go about their business and be independant, but they also need a bit of special care. Those parking spaces mean the difference between allowing a handicapped person to shop and sending them away because there are no available spaces for them. In other words, if you don't have legal permission in the guise of a placard or a license plate that identifies you as handicapped, you're breaking the law by parking there. You're also rude and insensitive.
One more thing. Giving a handicapped person the finger for telling you to get the hell our of her space is really inappropriate behaviour. I know that you think you're special because you have enough money to pay for Seven jeans, but you're not. You're just another of the thousands of spoiled, entitled bitches that need to be taken down a few pegs. I hope you got a really expensive ticket, you selfish cretin.
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