The Doctor's Appointment

If you weren't aware, You are now. Mark's health isn't the greatest. Because of that we have to go see doctors every once in awhile. So on December 27th he had an appointment, which the doctor's office cancelled on him. Mark let me know that I wouldn't have to sit in the doctor's office that day and that the appointment had been rescheduled for January 30th. Fine, I would be ready. Taking Mark to the doctor is an involved affair. Yesterday Mark took an early shower, picked out his finest going to the doctor's office clothing and announced that he was ready. Now it was my turn. First thing, I went out to the garage in the morning and made sure that his electric mobility cart was all charged up. Then before we left I went back out to the garage, took the cart apart, and loaded it up into the trunk of the car. I then went back up into the house, helped Mark put on his coat, got his portable oxygen machine ready, and we headed for the door. Seven steps, that's how many from the kitchen down to the backyard. You would have thought we were walking down from the top of the Eiffel Tower. Mark has a bit of a problem with the stairs. Anyway, we eventually made it down and I load him into the car. I then drive on off to the doctor's office where I encounter a delivery truck parked in the one and only handicapped spot. So I squeeze in next to it on the part that has those yellow diagonal lines. As I struggled to put Mark's electric cart back together on the  pavement behind the car, the driver of the truck returned.

"HEY! Asshole, you're parked in an handicapped parking spot." I said, while being my most tactful self.

"What you mean, I'm no park in handicap."

His concept of parking was right up there with his grasp of the English language.

"See that line? Any asshole with eyes can see that line and the sign. You're in the fucking handicapped spot."

"I have delivery. Besides, I'm leaving."

"IT'S NOT A FUCKING LOADING ZONE FOR JACKASSES LIKE YOU!"

I probably could have let it all go, but I needed the extra space to open the door wide, and pull Mark out of the car and get him on the cart. That's why handicapped spots are much larger than an average parking space. I fully expected to get punched out or maybe shot. But the truck pulled out, and I was able to get Mark on his cart. We then went into the building where the nice lady at the desk informed us that Mark's appointment was not Thursday afternoon. Mark's appointment was Friday.