the unbearable banishment: no friend to the handicapped

I have never—and would never—park in a handicapped spot. I thank jeebus I don’t need one and curse anyone who would do something like that.

But while at A Company Called Malice, Inc., I always use the handicapped stall in the men‘s room. It’s more spacious and usually cleaner.

While in disposed yesterday, I tapped out a few text messages. I like to multi-task. Took my time doing it, too.

I finished up, opened the door and the new compliance officer—the one in the wheel chair—was giving me the evil fish eye. I didn’t hear him wheel in and have no idea how long he’d been waiting. I heard other people walk in and out so he had to sit through that.

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Poor Ed McMahon. Even in death, he's a second banana.