Handicapped Parking Spots

You probably aren't going to like me after you read this. But that's okay. Because I think it might be important for this to be said, and I will take the fall for it. If you have read my post on crossing guards, life guards, etc., you really should have seen this coming.

Where I park my car everyday, at the high speed rail line to come into the city, there was always a considerable amount of parking spaces for handicapped people, yet of the hmmm...20 - 25 spots, probably a little less then half were occupied. Around Christmas time, or the holiday season, whatever, fuck you, they chose to repave the entire parking lot, which was great, because there was a tremendous amount of pot holes and other broken asphalt everywhere.

Now, in the same close parking lot where the handicapped spots were, there were about 10 metered spots. Meaning that people who will willing to pay $1.25 versus those willing to pay $1.00 more were able to walk about 200 feet right into the station whereas I paid only $1.00 and had to walk about 225 feet. The unlucky truth about the metered spots is they are highly HIGHLY watched by the Delaware River Port Authority parking cops (I don't know why they exist either, but sometimes they bring a Labrador to the station and all is forgiven). If you park in this spot and get tied up at work and are running, oh, 30 minutes late and your time expires, you get hit with a $30.00 ticket! If you park in the $1.00 spots, you probably could leave your car there for a few days before someone comes looking for a dead body.

Anywho, to prevent these $30.00 tickets, people would pay for much more than 10 hours worth of parking ($0.25 for every two hours = $1.25) and the parking authority was really getting away with people pay up to $2.00 a day to park. Smart scheme, am I correct? I, too, have fell victim of throwing all of my change in there on a day where I am running late in an effort to cut off about 35 seconds of walking time to catch a train.

For about two weeks after they paved the lot, where all of the parking meters were, there were just metal poles. You could now park in a premium spot for free! I totally did it, and felt superior when I strutted to my car and all of the other commuters watched slackjawed as I slid right in and took off, while they walked to their $1.00 spots or WORSE. The free, spooky far away spots.

Then one day, the metal poles were replaced with MORE handicapped signs. Now there are only five metered spots, and the handicapped spots remain as empty as ever.

While this was a very long winded build to my point, I am frustrated with the parking authorities lack of business acumen. Clearly we will never have enough handicapped people at our station to necessitate that many spots and they chose to LOSE money to accomodate these invisible disabled people. Our trains are from about 1962 and frequently break down on the Ben Franklin Bridge. Fox29 choppers and everything.

The last point I will make on this subject is this: I don't believe that all of the people with the removable handicapped tags are, in fact, handicapped. I (will totally own this as wrong) had a friend in high school whose father was handicapped and could never leave the house. He absolutely deserved his handicapped tag but since he wasn't going anywhere, we'd hop in her Ford Taurus and role into every HC spot available. Even at Windmill. At 2:30 a.m. to get french fries. The only reason I feel no remorse is that we were 16 and I have grown up. But I will admit that I was a completely, self-absorbed, selfish 16 year old (and 15, and 14, and 13, and so on and so forth).

Some mornings, I will be walking from my $1.00 parking spot (you cross through the handicapped lot to get in to the station - there simply isn't a way around it) and I will observe the cars. Some beautifully maintained BMWs, haggard 1987 Honda Accords, and Expeditions with ski racks on top...
Wait. Why the FUCK do you have a ski rack? Why is there a SINGLE pair skis in your backseat? Why the fuck do they look like they are YOURS??? Okay...calming down.

And sometimes, I walk through the parking lot in my 3 1/2 inch stilettos at 7:30 a.m., I hear tires squeal, and someone who is clearly smarter then I, slams his handicapped tag up on his rearview mirror and goes running past me.