It's rare that I use my disability to try to get something extra.
Sure, I use handicapped parking spots and for Bruce Springsteen concerts I buy accessible seating, which are usually easier to get than other seats. But the handicapped spots are for me and I need accessible seating.
It's not like I ask to skip to the front of the line waiting for a cab on a snowy night at the airport. I do jump to the front when asked, like the cab manager did at Dulles that night years ago, but I don't ask.
Yesterday was vendor day at work so as I walked out with Claren at lunch, I passed lots of tables with pens, key chains and other tchotchkes. But Volkswagen had T-shirts.
Granted, I just got three kick-ass T-shirts, but I decided I wanted one. I figured they were for people who signed up for a test drive or something, but I would say, "Trust me, you don't want me driving your cars." Then we'd all laugh and I'd get the shirt.
Not quite.
I asked "So what do you have to do for a shirt?" The guy said just fill out some stuff. I said "I couldn't really write so ...," thinking he'd just give me a shirt.
No, nothing.
I can't even play the disability card right.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
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5 comments:
already drafting my letter...
xo
ejd
I also think it bears noting that other coworkers received said t shirt simply by providing a business card.
maybe he thought you were illiterate.
xxoo
Judy
No letters. Isn't it weird, though. I was sure I'd get a T-shirt.
ok good, b/c I hadn't started writing anything for you. Phew.
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