Brief, but deeply ironic
I am just back from having an acupuncture treatment.
I waited at the bus stop for the bus home.
The bus arrived.
I waited courteously for the elderly, disabled lady with the walking stick to get off. I was taught from a very early age to let everyone out before trying to get in. (Or off before on, depending on the circumstances.)
I was the only person who did this.
By the time I got on the bus, both of the seats which are labelled as being provided for disabled passengers had been taken. By the severely non-disabled people who were too rude to wait for the other disabled lady to get off.
So. Anyone want to try to sell the merits of the medical model to me right now?
I waited at the bus stop for the bus home.
The bus arrived.
I waited courteously for the elderly, disabled lady with the walking stick to get off. I was taught from a very early age to let everyone out before trying to get in. (Or off before on, depending on the circumstances.)
I was the only person who did this.
By the time I got on the bus, both of the seats which are labelled as being provided for disabled passengers had been taken. By the severely non-disabled people who were too rude to wait for the other disabled lady to get off.
So. Anyone want to try to sell the merits of the medical model to me right now?
The Editor
PS And now, back to the test-card....
posted by
Lady Bracknell | Thursday, July 12, 2007
4 Comments:
The buses round here (though few and far between) have magical curative powers. Last time I had to use the bus, 5 priority seats were all taken so I had to stagger down to the back. When we arrived in the town centre all five of those people leaped up from their seats before the bus stopped, then when it drew to a halt, skipped nimbly from the bus and hurried off to do their shopping.
"Hallelujah" I cried merrily without a hint of sarcasm "It's a miracle!"
What an inspiring anecdote! I've no doubt you were deeply moved.
For no explicable reason which I can ascertain, the most consistently courteous sector of the travelling public I have met is on the London Underground.
On my infrequent but regular forays into the capital, I cannot remember the last time I was NOT offered a priority seat on the tube, even at peak times.
If this were the only factor in the decision-making process, based solely on my experiences, I would leave the North West and relocate to London tomorrow.
As it is, I will have to remain here where neither common courtesy, nor disability rights or even the rules of the road appear to have permeated through the thick skulls of the local populace.
(And don't even get me started on town planners...)
Dude,
REALLY? Can I employ you to get on the London Underground Victoria Line immediately ahead of me every working morning between about 0830 hrs and 0930 hrs? Because no one EVER gives their seat to me. If you get on ahead of me, a seat will be magically vacated, I can sit in it, and you can get off again.
I'm sure we can come to an arrangement. I can provide you with marmite sandwiches and a bottle of orange juice, for instance.
Perhaps AtW will cover the cost of your assistance.
Oh wait! I hate AtW! They will not cover any of my costs!
I'll share my morning banana with you.
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