I’ll admit, there was a part of me that felt a tiny, irrational grudge toward that gentleman with the walking stick. Not anger, but a sort of “lucky you” jealousy. But then I imagined how it feels to need that badge, to rely on that extra three hours just to live a normal life. The badge isn’t a perk; it’s a basic tool for dignity.
So next time you see someone parking on double yellow lines on the kerb and walking away, don’t assume they’re a rebel or a rule-breaker. They might just be using a permission slip the rest of us don’t have. And if you ever need that badge yourself, you’ll be glad it exists.
For now, I’ll just keep circling the block, muttering about dentists and paint. But at least I know the secret of the kerb—and honestly, it makes me feel a little bit smarter every time I spot it.
