SOMEONE PARKED IN THE DISABLED SPOT WITHOUT A PLACARD—AND CALLED ME ENTITLED WHEN I SPOKE UP
So this happened last Tuesday, right outside the pharmacy I go to every month. My back’s been bad since the surgery, and I’ve got the placard hanging up like I’m supposed to. I don’t love using it, but walking long distances just isn’t in the cards lately.
Anyway, I pulled in and both disabled spots were taken. One car had the proper tag. The other—a shiny gray SUV—didn’t. No placard, no license plate marking. Just sitting there like the driver owned the place.
I circled a few times, hoping someone was just dropping off a passenger. Ten minutes went by. Nothing.
So I went inside, slower than usual, trying not to wince. I asked the cashier if they knew whose SUV it was. They didn’t, but said someone had just gone into the smoothie place next door. I popped over there—sure enough, this woman in gym clothes was standing at the counter, laughing with the barista.
I asked, as politely as I could, if that was her SUV in the disabled spot. She looked me up and down like I’d just insulted her yoga mat. Then she rolled her eyes and said, “Wow, some people are so entitled.”
I was stunned. I even pointed at my placard and said, “That spot’s legally reserved. It’s not about entitlement—it’s about need.”
She didn’t even blink. Just sipped her smoothie and said, “It’s just five minutes. Chill out.”
I left before I said something I’d regret. But the worst part?
When I got back to the parking lot, a note was tucked under my windshield. Check the first comment