Explain This...

For those of you who don't know, Sonic is a chain of drive-in restaurants. I dunno, everyone seems to know of them, maybe they're everywhere now.

Anyhow, Sonics are well known for their roller-skating car-hops, and even the ones who don't roller-skate get around pretty well. So, this evening I pulled into a Sonic to get a giganto-burger with extra-thrombo-style mayo squeezin's. I must live right, 'cause just as I'm pulling in off the street, I see a car leaving slot #1.

Perfect!

At this particular Sonic, slot #1 is the place that's easiest to get in and out of, and which affords the best overall view of the noted roller-skating carhops, most of whom are girls hired from the freshman and sophomore classes of the local university, and all of whom, due to Halloween weirdness, were dressed as bangin'-hot, roller-skating, legs-to-their-armpits, slutty fairies, super-heros, and bimbos. And I'm getting a front-row seat from Slot #1. Hoo-Yaah!

(Side note: Are "slutty bimbos" a permitted combination, or is that one of those "dividing by zero" things? I shall explore the subject in considerable depth in an upcoming post.)

Except it wasn't to be. You see, when the car in front of me cleared the slot, I saw THIS:

OK, WTF?

Now, for the purposes of this post, lets assume for just a moment that I don't know that most of  the placard-bearing vehicles in the state are in fact owned by large, mouth-breathing women who have, over the course of their gluttonous lives, managed to mash their knees and ankles into jello (that's actually the main ingredient for Jello - look it up), thereby qualifying them to park close enough to entrances and whatnot to facilitate waddling their fat asses into WalMart.and slopping up onto a "mobility unit". Let's instead assume that all those blue tags are only handed out to bonafide cripples and that they entitle the owner of same to park in designated cripple slots in order to ease access to the business.

Now, how does that apply to a business where the BUSINESS COMES TO YOU, AS YOU SIT IN YOUR CAR? So some politically correct assholes get to bump ME out of my primo bimbo-viewing area because they, in their superiority, feel pity on them poor ol' cripples? That ain't working for me. Explain this to me, if you will.

This seems to be related to a recent proposal to allow people with cripple tags to clot up the HOV lanes. How the FUCK does letting them into a lane designed for carpooling and fuel savings do ANYTHING useful other than let us pat ourselves on the back for being so nice to them?

Good Christ, does anyone make a decision based on having a lick of sense instead of touchy-feely bullshit anymore?

Look, we get it.  Their lives suck.  Or at least it seems like they ought to, although I've heard rumors from some pretty crippled-up folk that I know that this attitude is at least insulting. But even assuming that the life suckage quotient is true, how does any of this kind of goofy crap assist them or make their lives better or do a damned thing other than get in everyone else's way?

In Our Next Episode: More Absolutely Factual Things About College Girls On Rollerskates. (Dear Penthouse Forum: I never believed these stories were actually true...until last night...)