So recently I was ticketed at UVU for parking in a handicapped spot. Some of you may know that I am in fact handicapped, and I do in fact have a handicapped placard. That was hanging on my rearview mirror.
So I sent an appeal to have it removed, as I didn't think I needed to pay a fee to be handicapped. UVU Parking Services responded that it would be dropped and marked as a warning. I thought "Ok, whatever. Don't admit your guilt or apologize, fine." But I wasn't paying the 20 bucks.
Later, I received an email stating that I had to pay the fine or they would drop my classes, punch me right in the testicles, and confiscate my first born son if I didn't transfer ownership of my favorite Andrew Jackson portrait.
Not wanting to escalate the issue further by sending a strongly worded email to them, nor writing the local newspaper a scathing editorial about how UVU is now charging me for being disabled, I decided to go to UVU parking services and clear up the matter once and for all.
So, taking up my luxurious lunch break, I went to UVU parking services. As it turns out, UVU parking services is a tiny shack far enough removed from campus that I wondered if it was in actuality just some random annoying weirdos playing a trick on me. Like on Punk'd. But, not being the celebrity I deserve to be, that wasn't the case. Sigh. Because of the genius of their design, I walked nearly 360° around the place to get to the front door, bringing my cane for both sympathy and guilt. And, if action movies have any real application in life, for backup. Trudging through slippery snow with a cane and evidence of my handicap improving my mood so much, I opened the screen door and saw two rather flustered looking individuals there, I hobbled in as much visible pain I could without moaning and asked "who wants to talk to an angry person?"
I explained that I am handicapped and am not paying a premium for that wonderful yet miraculous opportunity being disabled provides me. No, no, the constant pain is reward enough. They explained that I needed a UVU parking pass anyway, never mind that I've been assured by both UVU parking patrollers and Utah POLICE officers that such is not the case.
After arguing/whining the point a bit, I conceded to pay the fee for the privilege of parking in handicapped, faced with the lame excuse of "blame the people who use their grandparent's handicapped passes and abuse the system." Thanks, Chuck. But I'll blame you if that's all right. Not being privy to the screening process taken to determine whether I'm handicapped or not, but I'm so grateful I passed your test of what constitutes a handicapped person. Yay, me. So I went to parking services to not pay $20 and I ended up paying $80. Yeah, win for me. Moral victory or something.
Pretending I didn't hear them laughing as the door hit me on the way out (which I don't think was possible, it was an inward opening door) is counted as a victory in my book. I don't get to say "UVU hates disabled people," or "UVU is charging me for having cancer," or anything accusatory and fun like that. I don't even get to say "UVU parking services is filled with jerks and morons," which I'm sure would have been very satisfying to say. But I won't say any of those things. Instead I get to have another handicapped pass to keep track of, one that says "I'm disabled, and UVU apparently has the right to decide that."