Minions of Hell

The elderly are mean little people. The elderly who drive are scary little people. The elderly that drive and have handicap decals are minions of hell!

So.....thanks to a genetic/environmental fuck up, I get handicap decal privileges.  Sweeeeeet!

Initially, I didn't like using my decal. I was self conscious. I didn't want people asking what was wrong with me or looking at me sideways cause they can't see my handicap. With the aid of lazy friends and family that were often in my car, I finally got over not wanting to use it. Even still, I use it when convenient. (Read: nasty weather or crowded lot.)

Long story less long, I run to BJ's Wholesale (which is ALWAYS packed), early Saturday evening to grab a couple items. I'm not feeling like parking in the middle of the next town, so...I throw my decal in the window and jump out. This old blue hair is staring at me. I can feel the stank in her glare. She seemed so pissed that I was in handicap parking. This woman was breaking her neck to see if the photo on the decal was really me! The nerve of her. LMAO.

I had no time to sit and wait to see her face when she saw that it was really me. (I'm sure it was one full of disgust.) There are more than enough handicap parking spots out there. The elderly need to realize that unfortunately they don't have the lock on physical handicap. They aren't the Handicap Police. RELAXXXXXXX!