Monday, June 28, 2010

1 Year Sobriety Celebrations



In almost all supermarkets, banks and shops are special boxes for pregnant women, people with disabilities and older. As you know, I know it. But I always believed / thought / opinion that the item included within the "deaf / hard of hearing" in full possession of their motor skills-we-had no right to that privilege. When to go before the other, not queuing to keep our holy time. I have my magic

certificate of disability for over ten years (I've renovated right now) and I never dared to use it in those boxes, which enjoyed only during the months of my pregnancy belly. Well

. In recent years, the supermarket where I shop has been firing more and more employees and closing more and more boxes. The hot days the days are discounts, for example, are assembled in the three whores queues boxes are open (7 or 8 there should be) that run the full super, turn on and frozen, dairy pass and hopefully end in carnage . Torture. You can take twenty minutes to do the shopping, and two hours waiting to pay.

One day, of course, I'm tired. In the two open boxes with us hacinĂ¡bamos million monkeys crowded, and housing for people with disabilities seemed an oasis in the desert.

So without shame (I've been lost as won age) approached me in charge of the moment (if not more than girls twenty years) and asked if, using my magic disability certificate received the blessed permission to use the special box. I clarified and stressed because I am shameless but I have my ethics, who did not have motor problems. I do not know if the girl understood. I think the words "disability", "motive" and "hearing" in the same sentence was too much. The important thing is that she said yes. Was allowed. Could use and abuse of the special case because I was special.

So I went with my good dancing and singing of the tail was still for three hours, and headed into the empty box. And all looked at me with eyes injected into hatred, looking for signs of my stigma, wondering why, wondering perhaps if I was the daughter of Coto, if it was a covert agent of food science, "" Why the hell would use the box if there was nothing special special about me??

Since then I have asked all kinds of manager or manager: twenty girls and young women by twenty years, boys and girls, if I was allowed to use that box. Because cashiers always look at me weird and I pointed their index the poster with the logos of pregnant and disabled, and I say yes to the head, and then they look at me my stomach, trying to guess how much I am, or they seek the cane, crutches, whatever. And because once a cashier said he thought the box was only for disabled drivers, and I told him it was very logical, but as I had been allowed to use. And sometimes a pregnant woman comes and looks at me wrong, it looks as if to say that I do not belong to the club, and I look as if to say that I was pregnant and also not so bad, I hope he will make it a little exercise .

Anyway I approached the box especially if the others are empty or have little expected (I do not like to abuse), and let it go to the truly needy are those with mobility problems and other ... other Fuck that.

The other day I was in a special box, waiting for my turn disabled when a man stood behind me with his monkey. I looked. I looked. I showed the classical laminated copy of the certificate. I showed him mine. We stayed a few seconds as well, waiting to see who will strike first. Finally we keep our swords and we smiled. We recognized neighbors of adversity.
He asked me what was wrong. I told him I was deaf. I asked him what was wrong. He said "artificial leg." I said then ("fault?) That he had priority, I just used the box because he could, but really nothing stopped me from doing very long queues. He told me not to pass me, and mine was a right that had enough problems and that it enjoyed the box. I said thanks. He smiled.
When I finished paying, we were greeted like old friends and we wish him luck.

I believe sincerely that we all deserve these benefits, which are just steps away from comedy in the drama in which we live.
So now you know: inching toward special boxes. And if anyone asks why, say mysteriously, "because I can."

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