Do You Have A Permit That Allows You To Be This Rude This Loudly?

I am chronically ill and have been issued a parking permit by the Department of Motor Vehicles that allows me to park in disabled spots. However, many people tell me I do not look disabled. I don’t have any visible aids besides my glasses, and I guess being tall and thin causes people to assume I must be completely as mobile as a healthy person.

My boyfriend and I have decided to go to a shopping mall, and we park in the disabled parking nearest the entrance. We make sure to hang my permit where it is fully visible.

About an hour or so later, we come out and find that another car has parked perpendicular to us, blocking us in. The owners are nowhere to be seen. There is no parking permit or special license plate that would entitle this person to the space we are parked in.

At this point, my legs are seriously hurting me, and I have to sit down in the car. I also feel a sugar low coming on, and I know I need to get some “real food” to eat.

My boyfriend leaves me in the car to go and get mall security to see if they can do something about our blocked-in car.

I’m scrolling on my phone when someone comes up and knocks on my window. It’s not my boyfriend or security, so I ignore them. They knock again, more insistently. I ignore them again. They now begin to pound. I’m freaking out; I don’t want to open a door or window. I frantically call my boyfriend.

He and security show up about five minutes later, at which point I am practically in tears. They get the people away from my car and begin talking to them. My boyfriend opens the door to see if I’m okay, and I can hear the people yelling at security.

Person #1: “Well, where was I supposed to park?! None of the close spots are open.”

Security Guard #1: “You cannot block the disabled spaces. Please move your car immediately.”

Person #1: “But I’m disabled. Are you saying I should have to walk?”

Security Guard #1: “Unfortunately, we cannot guarantee the availability of any particular space. We do have wheelchairs available at all of the entrances that can be taken out to cars if necessary.”

Person #1: “Do I f****** look like I can’t walk? I don’t f****** need a wheelchair.”

Security Guard #1: “The service desk can assist you with accommodations for any other disability. I can escort you there after you move your car.”

At this point, the sugar low has hit. I’m shaking badly. Somehow, I have forgotten my emergency power bars, so I have zero food. My boyfriend sees this and realizes we need to get something NOW, but he doesn’t want to leave me behind. He gets the attention of [Security Guard #2] and explains the situation. [Security Guard #2] lets us know that there’s a place in the mall upstairs and about 200 feet from the elevator where I can get a sandwich and drink.

My boyfriend helps me out of the car, and we begin to walk toward the entrance. Behind us, I hear:

Person #1: “SHE CAN WALK! SHE CAN F****** WALK! WHY THE F*** DOES SHE NEED THAT SPOT?!”

We make it to the entrance, and I get a wheelchair. My boyfriend pushes me upstairs to the shop, where I thankfully can get a BLT. We’re there for maybe five minutes because I can eat in the car, and security may need us for a report or something.

When we come back down, security is still there. They’re still talking to the people whose car is blocking ours. [Person #1] is still screaming like crazy.

Person #1: “I WILL F****** SUE YOU! THIS IS DISCRIMINATION! THIS IS BULLS***! THIS IS F****** BULLS***!”

At this point, [Person #2] steps in. As someone with pretty serious anxiety, I recognize the signs in them, and I believe they were trying very hard to say something all along but were only able to now. As happens to a lot of people with anxiety, all the words just spill out in a rush.

Person #2: “Oh, please don’t. Please don’t. This is my fault. I forgot my mom’s parking pass. We usually use my mom’s parking pass. [Person #1] is autistic, and they were upset I forgot because we always park there, and this is just a meltdown. Please don’t arrest them. Please don’t arrest them. It’s not their fault. I’ll move the car. Please don’t arrest them.”

I seriously feel sympathy for [Person #2] because it seems like they’re about to have an anxiety attack, and they did nothing wrong here. I honestly think they froze when [Person #1] started screaming. 

Person #1: “DON’T YOU F****** DARE!”

Security asks [Person #2] to move the car. They get in and carefully move the car enough for us to back up out of the space. It looks like they’re going to take our space to appease [Person #1], but security steps in.

Security Guard #2: “It looks like there’s a space down there.”

The gesture to a space about seven cars away. [Person #2] waits for a moment and then drives down there. [Person #1] realizes that [Person #2] has given up and starts screaming after them.

Security Guard #1: *To [Person #1]* “You need to leave the mall. Otherwise, I’m going to have to call the police.”

Person #1: “I F****** DARE YOU!”

Security Guard #2: *To me* “How’re you doing?”

I give a thumbs-up.

Security Guard #2: “I bet you folks want to get out of here. If you want to drive around to the security station, I’ll let them know you’re coming. You can fill out an incident report and go.”

We took that opportunity and got the h*** out of dodge. I don’t know if police were called or what ended up happening. The mall never contacted us about the report, so I assume, whatever happened, it was all sorted out somehow. 

On the plus side, though, I haven’t forgotten my emergency power bars since.