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In My Face 11/25/07 By: Dave Wise I never thought about it before. It never occurred to me that
something this insidious would happen to this guy. Despite that I did nothing to
provoke the hatred toward me, I, for the first time in my
life, was dismissed as less than human. I was the The incident was an odd experience for me. It felt like a raw, cold slap in the face from a dirty washrag, you know the kind, the disgusting, smelly infested crap-stained type a bitter divorcee waitress uses at the waffle house. On a similar notion, I remember the first time I was mistaken for a man in my "Golden Years." A few years ago I was asked by a little perky blond slutty thing at a restaurant if I wanted the "Seniors Discount." Although I'm still under 50, the bimbo presumed that I was "old" because I am bald, stand crooked and with a cane in hand, look beyond my years. The slutty thing was probably getting used to her first job and made a forgivable prejudice. Hell, I would have accepted the discount, alas, because I am not a liar, I disclosed my age. The little tart soon became red-faced and apologized. But, you have to roll with the punches so, " No harm, no foul" I said to her, but it did strike me that for the first time I felt not only quite old, but somehow "different" from others. Anyway, back to the humiliation of being crippled. I'm used to the stares, those who are kind enough to hold a door open or assist me in lifting something and I even have a few laughs with others who crack corn at my condition. It really is quite ridiculous I admit. I stand and sit with shoulders that are crooked. I limp. I need a cane to walk for any distance beyond ten feet. I aint pretty. I have to be medicated in order to keep working. (Oh yes I work, no pity-party for me! As long as I can breath and communicate, I will try to sustain myself! The idea of welfare or even a "Special Parking for the Handicap" thing I refuse. Those spaces are stolen property anyway, but that is another rant.) It all began one Sunday I drove to the local Union 76 gas station that sells propane too. I had a house full of people who were waiting for me to return with propane and hook it up to the B.B.Q. so I could cook the steaks. YUM! But, the taste soon turned bitter for me as I will explain. I am able to offload the 5 gallon tank and because it was empty, I was able to do it and set it in clear view of the attendant. He ignored me for a while, so I got up and hobbled over to him, but before I could say anything, he said "Sorry, can't help you until all of the cars are gone... company policy." What? Company policy my ass! This guy was just plain lazy -- I thought. Then, after waiting for 30 minutes, and the only thing on the lot was a motorcycle, again I walk up to the guy. He goes ballistic! In a fit of rage, he ran over to a sign on the propane tank which he thought it "explained" the "Company policy" to me. I didn't. It was instructions on how to fill the tank, the same ones you see on every gas station in the U.S. - So, apparently I am unable to read as well! Now I'm pissed! I said "Hey, in the ten years I've been doing business here I've never had this happen! You have a problem with working I guess!" Again, wrong thing to say. He got angrier and sent an S.U.V. through the car wash! Clearly I was not getting any propane from this idiot - but I could not figure out why!?! Then it hit me -- like a ton of bricks dropped from the Space Station to me standing like a dupe at the gas station - oh, and they emptied their waste tanks on it for good measure. HE IS TAKING HIS HATRED OF CRIPPLED PEOPLE OUT ON ME!!! APPEARENTLY, I'M NOT F%$KING PERFECT! Damn. DAMN! F&%KING G%$DAMN!! MOTHER&%$#ING SON-OF-A-BITCH DAMN!!! HOW DARE HE?!? Now, I'm pissed off but also feeling like I'm a five legged camel carrying a 55 gallon drum of toxic waste! I'm someone to be avoided!?! I don't get it! But, I'm full of rage! I drive across town to another station, receive service immediately and went home, feeling just a bit confused, but angry enough to punch someone in the nose, if I could. After about a week, I cooled down, thought about it and sent a letter to the main office of Conoco/Phillips, the big guys who trade oil across the globe. To view the document, click here. Later on I received a phone call - from Conoco/ Phillips. It was the person in charge of public relations. A woman. Who is... disabled. Justice will be served soon. |
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