The Vine: January 6, 2010
Dear Sars,
I’ve been getting several conflicting opinions on this one. I usually do a really good job staying out of office politics, but now I am in a situation where a non-committal grunt isn’t going to cut it.
There has been a long-standing power struggle between my boss (B) and another person (A) in the department. Lately, they have been using me as a point of contention. We do grant work, and recently A asked if I could work on a new grant for him and he even offered to pay half of my salary. B said no (well, really she said, “No, I found her, she’s mine”). In response to that, A has decided to reorganize the office, which mainly includes moving me.
Normally I’d say “whatever” and just move, but the new office is the cramped, dark, non-temperature regulated office that I would have to share with two other people. All of this actually doesn’t matter as A somehow wields final authority over the decision-making and it’s essentially a done deal. What does come into play is my ridiculously tall frame, which physically does not fit at the desk.
I had already decided to talk to A and let him know that I can’t sit there until a new cube/desk is installed. I have heard that at a subsequent meeting my size was brought up, and A had said he would install a new desk. Although there is a limit to the space, and he means they will raise the desk to a comfortable height, but can’t do anything about it being only four feet wide (not the desk, but the entire space between the cube walls).
Well, B has now seen an opportunity to undermine A and spoke with me about “my rights” as an employee to have a comfortable and ergonomically correct workplace. She basically told me to raise a big fuss about it.
How much should I say? B is my boss. A is better networking-wise and could potentially be more helpful for me in the future. I would rather not move, but I knew moving into the non-profit sector meant giving up things like the corner office with all the windows. As long as I fit, I could deal. I must admit I’m probably more annoyed at there being no reason for the move other than this power struggle than the actual move itself.
I’m a programmer for a reason
Dear Prog,
Stick with your original plan: talk to A, let him know the desk situation isn’t workable and you’ll require one that fits before you move, and stay out of it otherwise.
Don’t bring it up with B, and if she brings it up, tell her you’ve made your peace with it and you’d rather focus on other things. She’s trying to use you as a lever in the situation, so decline to allow that as well as you’re able; tell her she’s welcome to take it up with A directly, but you’re there to work, not dicker over the seating arrangements, so as long as you have a desk that you fit under, you consider the topic closed.
Sometimes there’s only so long you can pretend that you won’t have to pick a side, but for now, get a decent desk and act like you believe it’s going to end there.
Dear Sars,
I have a question for you, or more precisely, would like your take on a recent event that happened to me. At the time, I was so stunned I had no words, and now I have a thousand sharp retorts going through my mind, although I don’t know that I’d use any of them.
Here’s the situation: I was out and about, and needed to use the ladies room. You need to know that I am not a small woman. I’m 6’1″ and not thin. My husband says I’m his Valkyrie. That being said, even though I am not disabled in any way, when the option is available, I prefer to use the handicapped stall as it is just easier for me to move around in. I’ve been in (regular) stalls that are so small my knees hit the door, and getting my pants down is a challenge.
Anyway, there were five stalls in this bathroom, one of which was handicapped. When I entered the bathroom, I was its only occupant. When I left the stall another woman had just come into the bathroom. As I stepped toward the sink, she asked me if I was disabled. When I told her I was not, she ripped me up one side and down the other: “How dare you use that stall when you aren’t disabled. Those stalls are for the sole use of someone who needs it — someone using a walker or wheelchair, not just a fattie’s convenience.” That’s just a portion, but it continued the entire time I was at the sink, until I left the bathroom. As I said in my first paragraph, I was so shocked I had no reply.
My understanding is that the larger stalls are for anyone to use, and that if there is a disabled person waiting, they would get first crack at that stall, but it is not for their use exclusively. Am I right? Am I wrong? Is this just political correctness gone to extremes?
Will I Ever Use A Public Toilet Again?
Dear Toilet,
This is my understanding also. You could also argue that the abled should try to use any other available stall first, and should only opt for the disabled stall if it’s the only one open; I don’t abide by that rule, but perhaps I should start.
Then again, as it’s often the furthest from the door, the disabled stall then becomes by default “the poo stall,” and I will not sit here and pretend I haven’t used it for that purpose.
With all of that said, that woman was way out of line. It’s none of her business no matter which way you slice it, and anyway, how did she know you aren’t disabled? Not every disability is visible; I think folks with colostomy challenges would be pretty interested to hear that they’re not to use that stall because they’re able to walk.
Anyone who can enlighten us on the actual policy, should one exist, regarding use of handicapped stalls, please do so in the comments, but in this as in all things, it seems like common sense and courtesy should prevail — and did, here, until Madam Shitter Policewoman took it upon herself to rip you a new one.
Dear Sars,
My mother is having some sort of mental breakdown and I’m not sure how to deal with it. Here’s the background: Mom and Dad met in college, got pregnant, got married, had three kids.
Thirty-seven years later, they are still married and it’s readily apparent they are not a happy couple or a good match for each other. My mom is an artist and my dad is a neuropsychologist, which means they have very different personalities that often clash. My mother is stubborn and contrary and prefers to march to the beat of her own drum. She will take the opposite opinion of any issue you discuss with her (she once stated she felt “bad” for Scott Peterson!) and purposefully needles my dad to “get his goat,” so to speak. Needless to say, it gets awkward at family gatherings when they start arguing constantly.
For about two years now, I have noticed that my mother is becoming more and more isolated in her life. She lives on a farm in the countryside and her friends and my siblings and I have all moved away. Dad works, so she has little human contact. As a result, she raises animals; cats, chickens, geese and dachshunds to be exact. She has always been incredibly attached to her animals and treats them like her children.
Long story short, one of her animal babies just became badly injured. Sister, the dachshund, launched herself off the couch and became paralyzed. My mother seriously lost her marbles! Crying and incoherent, she drove Sister over 100 miles away for emergency surgery that has an iffy success rate. The surgery cost $3500, which my parents have, but my dad was hoping to retire soon and he still supports two of my siblings (another very long story) and that money could have gone towards their retirement. I don’t want to sound ungrateful for Sister, she is a very sweet dog, but is her 50% recovery prognosis worth the cost to their future?
Dad is very pissed off and resentful about it and us kids are worried that Mom has gone off the deep end. She talks about nothing but Sister, even to strangers in the grocery line! It’s like this event has consumed her life. She didn’t even react this way when my human sister was horribly injured in a car accident and in a coma for a week.
Mom also demanded we change our holiday plans so she can be with Sister. I had to take my 6-month-old and my 2-year-old out into a driving blizzard on Christmas Eve so she wouldn’t have to leave Sister in her crate for a few hours.
That’s another point, she refuses to follow the vet’s orders and isolate Sister so she can heal properly. She carries her around and gets really upset at all of us when Sister falls down stairs or launches off the couch trying to follow Mom. This surgery is going to be a moot point at this rate!
My mom used to be so level-headed. She never put up with dramatics and if you had a hormonal moment, she would just roll her eyes and laugh at you. Now, she’s crying at the drop of a hat and constantly talking about Sister and how she “doesn’t know how she would go on without Sister.” I guess my dilemma is, should I approach Mom and suggest she up her antidepressant dosage, see a psychiatrist, or just let this run its course? I don’t know what to do, and being a middle child (which comes with a whole other set of issues) I want there to be peace and I want the family to be happy. I just don’t know what to do and was hoping you had some advice.
Scared of Mommie Dearest
Dear Scared,
For starters, stop permitting unreasonable behavior to pass unchallenged. Mom “gets really upset at all of [you]” because Sister follows her around? Unreasonable, and someone should have pointed that out. Demanding that you drive through a snowstorm with two small children? Unreasonable, and you didn’t actually “have to take” the kids out into that. You should have declined, with the valid reason that it was dangerous weather, and next time, you should.
If you think she’s depressed — and it sounds likely; she’s fixated on Sister to a degree that suggests an alienation from the people around her, she’s weepy, she’s withdrawn, and so on — express your concern to her. Phrase it in a way that’s as nonjudgmental as possible of Sister’s surgery; the financial aspect is for your parents to address between them. You should leave the Christmas Eve inconvenience out of it too, because, again, she didn’t really “make” you do that, and frankly you should have put your foot down. Ask her if she’s all right. Tell her she seems unhappy to you — fragile, isolated. Actually listen to her answer, even if she chooses to bang on about Sister for twenty minutes, because you could always use that as a jumping-off point to suggest that maybe she needs to talk to someone about it (and everything else that’s going on with her).
You might also ask your father if he thinks she could benefit from counseling, and whether it’s something he’s suggested to her also. That could have the opposite of the desired effect, based on what you’ve said, but if he has mentioned it to her and she’s rejected the idea, it’s better to know that beforehand so that you can find another way to introduce the concept without her feeling ganged up on.
If she’s having emotional problems, yes, you should express compassion and try to help — but you don’t have to enable every off-the-wall “requirement” or reaction. It isn’t realistic for Mom to expect that everyone else’s lives will revolve around Sister’s health issues, but if you act like it is, the nonsense will continue. Not that it won’t anyway, but you can care about your mother’s mental health without signing on for every attendant irrationality.
Tags: etiquette the fam workplace
Scared–
When was the last time your mom had a checkup? It’s not hormones, but it could be something serious. Mood swings, etc. can be a sign that her brain’s not getting enough blood oxygen. Also, has she been drinking more?
I AM DYING OVER HERE! I almost wish I had a situation in which I could use “Madam Shitter Policewoman!”
@lanehat, Universal Design! It’s something we talk about in landscape architecture school. Why design a flight of stairs with an afterthought wheelchair ramp that forces users around the side of a building… when you can shape the terrain to approach the building more gradually and avoid steps altogether? And look at OXO products – originally designed with the arthritic in mind, but wildly popular with everyone because they just work well for people, period.
I’m a rather small woman and I frequently use the handicapped stall. I just prefer to hang my purse farther away from the toilet and I feel less claustrophobic in there. If someone who looks like she needs the bigger stall more comes in at the same time (say, someone with a stroller, an older or handicapped person or someone bigger than me), I’ll take the regular stall. But I’m with everyone else. I see no reason not to use the stall if it’s there and no one else in the bathroom needs it. I’ve never had anyone comment. I’m not sure I’d have known what to say either, although when the woman asked “are you disabled,” I might have told her it wasn’t her business.
@lanehat I think the term you’re describing is Universal Design. Basically, it modifies the physical environment so it is accessible and usable by all users, rather than a select few. Grab bars, ramps, and lower sinks/counters with space underneath (to accomodate a wheelchair rolling up) are common features. This has come into play more as the Baby Boomer population is aging and may want to live at home instead of moving into assisted living facilities.
Of course I’d never be this quick on the draw in real life, but my solution for Madame Shitter Policewoman would be to explain in an oh, so sorry voice, that the other toilet wasn’t available, and it was an emergency poo. Then go on to explain your emergency in excruciating detail. That would probably stop her from doing that to anyone else in future.
….aaaaaannnd ferretrick for the win. Awesome.
Did every person who responded to Toilet miss the point? Yes, she was within her rights to use the handicapped stall; who cares?! A complete stranger criticized her on how she was using the bathroom. More importantly, this person verbally abused her, no doubt scared the hell out of her, and would not stop. This isn’t about the proper use of a handicapped stall; this is about an abusive, judgmental person who used this as an excuse to unload her unmitigated bigotry against overweight people on an innocent person.
For what it’s worth, Toilet: I’m so sorry you were abused by this terrible bigot. I’m also sorry that so few people who heard this story spoke to the real issue here: vehement prejudice against overweight people. I’ve never experienced exactly what you have — I’m not overweight and never have been — but I get it because I’m a member of the human race (unlike the woman who attacked you). I think almost anyone in your position would have acted as you did. I like to think that if I had been there watching this, I might have gotten over my shock quickly enough to run out to the management and report an insane, abusive woman in the ladies room who needed to be removed from the premises immediately.
Dear … well, I’m not calling you “Public Toilet”. How about “Valkyrie” – your husband sounds sweet. :)
Dear Val – Personally, I do use the handicapped stall if it is the only stall available, if no handicapped person is around in need of it, or if no one else is in the bathroom and I feel like it (most times I don’t, but that’s just my preference). If a handicapped person came in while I was using it, I would vacate as quickly as possible, and apologize profusely. This has never actually happened to me, but I’ve seen it happen to others.
Also, I’m 5’7″ and I’ve been in bathroom stalls in which I thought I’d never get in and then thought I’d never get out again. I can only imagine what it’s like for you at your height, if I’m uncomfortable! I can certainly understand your wanting to use a roomier stall, and I wouldn’t question it.
Then again, I wouldn’t question ANYONE using ANY stall as long as no handicapped or disabled person was waiting for it. I do not answer to the Bathroom Police, anymore than I answer to the Fashion Police, the Grammar Police, the Unhealthy Food Police, etc.
I’m way more appalled by people who feel like they have to give a nasty, self-righteous, completely unnecessary speech to someone who wasn’t bothering them and hasn’t done anyone any harm, than I am by your using an empty bathroom stall. I’m glad I wasn’t there, because that kind of person brings out the worst in me. Sorry you had that experience!!!!
The toilet situation reminds me of something that once happened to my mother and me. We were leaving a doctor’s office and my mother (who has ms) wanted me to pull the car around to the drive to pick her up so she wouldn’t have to walk so far. She was in a lot of pain that day, plus it was really, really cold. But a car was blocking the drive. When the woman who parked there came out, my mother asked her why she had parked there (blocking everybody, including emergency vehicles). She told my mother she had been dropping off somebody in a wheelchair and that my mother should walk and lose some weight.
First, dropping somebody off with a wheelchair is a legit reason to pull to the drive. You drop them off, wheel them in, and MOVE THE CAR, before you go back to the building! It isn’t that hard-I’ve done it with my grandmother plenty, though I usually opt for just parking, even if I have to wheel her a little bit further.
But even that really isn’t the point. This woman decided that because my mother was overweight that was all she was. She didn’t know my mother has ms. She didn’t care. I don’t feel like you ever really know what the situation is-unless somebody tells you (in this instance, the woman was so hostile and frankly, frightening, we didn’t even have an opportunity). Even then, your understanding might be limited. So unless you really know? You shouldn’t say anything. I sometimes see people-young, healthy-looking people-parking with handicapped parkers in handicapped spots. But I don’t say anything. ‘Cause really, I have no idea. Who am I to go over and say “are you handicapped?” like the woman in the bathroom did?
The fact that this woman isn’t handicapped really isn’t the point. I don’t see that people owe random strangers explanations like that and I don’t think they should be asked for them either. In this instance and in instances like it, people should mind their own business. And if they actually have the nerve to ask, I’d revert to the Miss Manners standard of “why would you like to know?”
@Jane, dad’s role is he tries to help but when mom flips and yells at him for “bothering her” he goes away to another room, etc. Usually he yells back before he leaves, but the point is he removes himself. And you are right, the marital problems get tossed onto me because my mom utilizes me, and my siblings to a smaller extent, as her friends/pshychologists. There are things she tells us that I would NEVER want any child to know about their parents relationship; deeply personal and hurtful things that should remain in the marriage. Dad is not without his faults. He baits her and he knows how she gets and yet he needles her on purpose sometimes. I’m not sure why; maybe that’s his way of trying to get her out of head. I do feel bad for him in this particular situation because he works very hard and is the only income for them and he just wants to retire, but that keeps getting pushed back because he keeps having to spend more and more money on things. Did this even answer what you were asking? I feel like I’m rambling now.
I really am glad I posted this because it has made me realize that we have been seriously enabling mom and we shouldn’t. I have been in this loop trying to make everyone happy and that is just not possible. I asked my dad and sister at dinner last night if they thought mom was acting strangely about Sister and they agreed…then started talking about a football game. I know my mom needs major help and it appears I’m the only one who is going to have to approach it, which means I’ll be the “dramatic” one in the situation. But I just can’t stand by and let her keep on this course. I’m concerned about where she’s heading emotionally and I don’t want her to get farther into depression. I also have to set some personal boundaries and not get hurt when she gets mad that I don’t conform to her whims.
Thanks to everyone again. It’s been eye-opening.
Val,
While I don’t think I’m considered disabled, I do have Crohn’s disease and occasionally it’s easier to use a handicap stall to deal with some of the complications of that. If anyone had the gall to coment I would hope that I would be polite enough to respond that not all handicaps are visible and that it is incredibly rude to demand that people diviulge very personal information about themselves to a stranger. That being said I’m not ashamed of have a medical issue that I have no control over, and I’m kind of mean, so I would probably describe the issue in great and dissugting detail. Oh and I also use it to change when I’m going to ride my bike home from work. So from someone who has large hospital bills to back up her claims of needing it, I say go for it as long as no one else is standing there saying, “I’m waiting for the handicap stall because I can’t use the others”.
Jen, maybe it’s just me, but I don’t read “not thin” as necessarily being overweight. I’m definitely not thin, but I’m DEFINITELY not “overweight” either.
As to the Poo Hag’s problems, I agree with CV. Who’d want to be the woman with a life so miserable, a mind so hideously cramped, that this is the sort of behavior she indulges. Poo Hag seems far stupider and sadder and smaller than Valkyrie, by a long shot. This was a puzzling moment of unpleasantness for V. For PH, it’s a whole entire life. An ugly, abusive, and intrusive-on-other-people’s life. But one she’s got to acutally live. How terrible.
So, Sars – was it Tall People’s Day in your inbox, for this Vine? Heh.
I was in a wheelchair for a few months because I destroyed an ankle and was too out of shape to use crutches for any distance, and not once did I have any trouble with the large stall being occupied – at restaurants, stores, malls, theaters, and even the grocery store. I can’t remember there ever being a line, or people being present to generously give me my choice of stall. I just always got lucky and rolled in to an empty bathroom. It’s not much of a sample, timewise, I admit, but honestly, I had much more trouble with narrow doors and lack of ramps/elevators (and with completely available “large” stalls that were only like 2″ wider than regular ones, and with loaner wheelchairs at malls that were pieces of junk) than with bathroom stall availability.
I think a much bigger problem, at least from anecdotal/advice column evidence, is people NOT in wheelchairs who have horrible eliminative diseases like Crohn’s or bladder problems, etc., and who cannot wait, at all, being told by people in line that they’re clearly able-bodied and will have to wait their turn, leading to accidents and humiliation.
Finally, always remember: there are people who really, really get off on being “better” than everyone else and believe that this gives them a license to be vicious. Do not doubt that the idiot bathroom policewoman went from there to lecture a salesperson on how to return change, inform some beleaguered parent with young children about how poorly-raised said children are, tell her waiter that he would not be getting a tip from her because of his pierced ears, and tell someone with a white cane and inch-thick glasses that she should be ashamed of herself, pretending to be blind.
We panic like the thoughtful and heirarchical monkeys we are to being screeched at – just picture a bunch of angry chimps and hear that sound and feel your spine shrink, and then remember when a human voice and glare made you feel exactly the same way. If someone is going to take the time and energy and put themselves in danger of reprisals, or at least disapproval, to attack us, we assume that they must be right. I learned long ago that this simply is not true – they are instead taking advantage of the general reasonableness, introspectiveness, and conflict-averseness of other people to run roughshod over them. I’ve tried to phrase this maxim more elegantly, but it loses its effect, so sorry it’s clunky, but:
Just because they’re angry, it doesn’t mean they’re right.
(Sure, some angry people are right, and you need to evaluate each claim, yadda yadda yadda, but really, this is a very valuable touchtone in moments of reptile brain/chimp panic.)
@Jen–thank you for bringing that aspect of the situation up! My first impression of the letter was that Valkyrie had encountered someone who likes to unload on heavier people for any reason that comes to mind. I find it hard to imagine this same woman would have reamed out an average-size person in the same situation. YMMV. So the woman should be ignored as a rude ignoramous, and the door closed in her face.
What is burning my biscuits this week is finding out that our condo association has SOLD marked handicapped-accessible parking spots to non-handicapped residents!! No tags, plates, etc on either of the cars in question. I asked at the management office because I wanted to give the parkers the benefit of the doubt before passing judgement. But nope, sold to the highest bidder regardless of need. I’ll have to look it up, because I have a suspicion that practice is illegal–I’m a Virginia resident, if anyone knows offhand.
@Diane: I choose the letters fairly randomly (there is a system, of sorts, but it’s not all that interesting) — but in spite of the randomness, certain patterns do tend to emerge in spite of me on certain days.
I’m just loving me some “Poo Hag”. That’d fit on a license plate quite neatly, but the bint in question probably wouldn’t want it.
Nothing of substance to add, but I just wanted to second (third, fourth) the sentiments of a few commentors to Valkyrie – I’m upset, even outraged, on your behalf by that situation. It’s awful that such a thing happened to you. (Also love your husband’s nickname. Are there more like him around somewhere?)
I can just about guarantee if it’d been me I’d have burst into tears on the spot. At the very least, I would have been as shocked and frozen as you were, so as a fellow “Valkyrie” I thank you for sending this in. I now have a slight chance of having a comeback at the ready, should this ever happen to me, since I’ve been sitting here for several minutes practicing the tone of voice in which to say things like, “What business is that of yours?” and “Handicapped-accessible does not mean not handicapped-exclusive, you ignorant bint,” and “I’d like to lodge a complaint about an unstable person who just verbally assaulted me.”
That last might be a bit over the top, but IMO, ignoring/walking away/tolerating that kind of abuse only perpetuates it. Filing a complaint or a report might not stop her behavior, but hopefully it’d make her think twice before doing it next time, and perhaps having a person in authority – store mgr, police officer – telling her that she’s wrong and/or out of line would be more effective than hearing it from the target of her abuse.
This was also a good opportunity to remind myself that just because someone asks me a question, I am under no obligation to answer it, especially if they are a stranger and the question is personal.
To Diane: I didn’t take “overweight” from Val’s letter, until she got to the part where that horrible bitch made a remark about “fatties.” Even so, to some people, anyone with more than 3% body fat qualifies as a “fatty” so who knows if Val is technically overweight or just “not a tiny stick.” But Jen’s point is valid – whether or not Val IS a person of size, that woman abused her on that basis. To draw a loose parallel, consider a dark-skinned Indian or Hispanic person being called [the n-word]. The issue is not whether the insult is factually correct, it’s the fact that it was used at all.
@Liz in Minneapolis – “reptile brain/chimp panic” would be a great name for a rock band. Or a universal-design business.
Valkyrie,
I work in a large office with staff that includes several women with varying degrees of disability-from wheelchairs and permanent crutches, to cane (me, arthritic knees & feet), to temporary situations resulting from accidents or surgery. Our ladies’ room has 3 stalls, that is 2 tiny “normal” ones and 1 h/a.
I’ve never had any trouble from using the bigger stall when I need to have a bit more space, or to be able to rely on the grab bars, or even just because I felt like getting closer to the window or the heater which are both on the wall within the stall. Also, in our situation, sometimes 2 or more handicapped staffers are in need at the same time. We wait our turn politely like anyone else.
Poo Policelady could redirect her energies toward riding public bus routes and reaming out the lazy teenagers who lounge across 2 or more of the front seats that are marked “elderly and disabled”, even when a person with cane or crutches is hobbling past them to try for some other empty seat. The bus drivers will insist that the other passengers move off for wheelchairs or for blind passengers, but the rest of us have to speak up for ourselves. That said, many many middle-aged and even elderly passengers will willingly offer their seats to the disabled, the frailer-looking elderly, and the young parents carrying a baby or toddler. Ny thanks go out to all those lovely, generous people. And to the seat hogs, do ya really want to find out how much I weigh when I lose my balance and land on you? No, I didn’t think you’d like that.
A fun bluff call for situations like this (when I remember to use it): “Well, then I guess you’d better call a cop.” I used it on some humorless magpie who took me to task the other day for “wasting” a whole parking space with my tiny car, which does happen on occasion, although 1) usually it’s over a metered spot, which makes no sense, because it’s one car per spot and makes no difference whether I park directly in the center of it; 2) I make a concerted effort NOT to be that bitty-car-driving dick who doesn’t move up to make room, metered spot or no; and 3) it’s inevitably some fucknuts in a four-door condo who has a problem with the Smart, like, ain’t me making you drive a Yukon, so maybe don’t talk to me like that. Or at all.
So Haggie Smith is all “so you’re just going to TAKE UP that WHOLE SPOT” this and that, and I smiled and shrugged, “I guess you’d better call a cop, then,” and pointed to the patrol car two blocks away while cheerily wishing her a fantastic day.
Her comeback: “At least my car isn’t A TOY!” …Good one? I guess?
@e, I did miss the “fatties” bit on the first go-round, but the result was an interesting little train of thought on how “not thin” has come to mean “overweight” to so many people, so I enjoyed myself mentally with that while working on spreadsheets and reporting for a little while.
Jaybird, it’s my newest spin on “Have Met/Was Bitch”: Have met/Was Poo Hag. (Peed on her shoe a la Nicholson in “Wolf”. Departed triumphant.)
Or something not remotely like that.
Sars, thank you! I was kidding of course, but it did strike me. *Grins*
“But I don’t say anything. ‘Cause really, I have no idea. Who am I to go over and say ‘are you handicapped?'”
@Deb, that is perfect! That’s usually my attitude. Once, my mom, who has some pretty severe arthritis issues, had a temporary handicap parking tag from the doctor even though she looks fine. I think I’d choke someone who dared to question her in the manner this jerk did.
Something else occurred to me…why is Poo Hag even paying attention to who comes out of what stall??!! That is not even something that crosses my mind when I’m in a public restroom. Ugh, some people and their pettiness.
Jen, if you’ll go back to my comment on the first page, I began my Snarky Comment, Free to Users, with:
“I have to provide this to my taller/larger sisters:”
I thought that indicated I had picked up on, and was addressing, the fact that the Poo Hag had made her comment based on Valkyrie’s size – meaning her weight – although, honestly, the “average” size of many stalls is not suited to the tall, REGARDLESS of their weight. It’s not often not suited to the median in height.
It is probable that the Poo Hag would have b*tched regardless, or would have seen someone “tall” as being “fat” – but honestly, these days, a lot of people (especially women) chugging along minding their own business at a fairly average weight find themselves being excoriated as “fat.” As the size of America increases, or appears to increase (hi there, fiddled-with height/weight charts!), the definition of what is “fat” keeps spiralling DOWNWARD; I guess it’s to widen the field of targets for would-be abusers, because their erstwhile targets are no longer PC. It isn’t acceptable to berate strangers who are not actively engaged in harming you – and NO, someone’s waistline is NOT harming you! No, not even by increasing your insurance rates, unless your insurance company is just plain greedy, because it’s almost impossible for the very heavy to get any KIND of insurance. And the venom in the comments makes it plain that they’re not concerned about the “health” of their targets, either: vitriol won’t ever be mistaken for “concern.” And unless someone is embalmed, in a coffin, holding a lily, please, please accept that you CANNOT know someone’s health by his or her appearance. You cannot. Fat people can be healthy, thin people can be sick. Thin people can be healthy, fat people can be sick. People can be fat or thin as a RESULT of medication they’ve had to take for an illness. Average Viewer, trust me on this: You. Just. Don’t. Know.
This whole “I AND NO ONE ELSE DECREE WHO CAN USE THE HANDICAPPED FACILITIES” thread has been reminding me of a movie from the eighties. Can’t remember the name but it starred Kristy MacNicholl as a woman who wore a leg brace and ended up, due to Wacky Hijinx, wearing a cast on that leg at a ski resort, reveling in the fact that no one treated her as “handicapped” any more.
There was also some romantic subplot, but whatever, the part that stuck in my mind is when Kristy and her best freind are in line to see a movie, and the usher comes up and asks her to go to the head of the line. Her friend is all “awesome, let’s go!” until the usher says only Kristy can go, unless she needs her friend’s physical assistance. Kristy instantly snaps out “what if she needs mine? She’s blind!”
(Best part of the scene: sunglasses-wearing friend clutching Kristy’s arm and loudly declaiming “Will there be subtitles? I LOVE subtitles!”)
So anyway, the lesson here is that unless someone asks you for assistance or is in some kind of danger, It Is None Of Your Business. Assuming good on the part of strangers in everyday situations leads to a much more stress-free life in general, Poo Hag.
To me, the point is that, no matter who’s right or wrong about the right to use the handicapped stall, a genuine interest in educating Val about the use of the stall was not this woman’s motive, or she’d have done it entirely differently. That’s why I don’t particularly care about that aspect of the situation — I agree with just about everyone else that a handicapped stall is very different from a parking spot for obvious reasons and you don’t need to “reserve” one.
BUT EVEN IF YOU DID, this lady set out to be as personally hurtful as she possibly could be, and so to me, the question is, “How do you handle bizarre people who have the specific motive of hurting you, despite the fact that they have never met you?” To most of us, that’s an extremely bizarre experience.
When you encounter people who are setting out to be hurtful to you, you have to ignore them and not engage (just as Val did, good job!), because they aren’t trying to have a conversation with you anyway. It’s not like somebody is going to say “Fuck you, fattie!” and then you’re going to say, “You know, I see where you’re coming from about the bathroom,” and then she’s going to say “Oh, well, that’s all I wanted, have a nice day.” She’s not being abusive incidentally to making her point; the entire point is being abusive, because some people need that. And I echo the comment from someone else that when you think about what it would be like to live in that mind, where you need to set out in the morning thinking, “Who can be made to feel terrible by my behavior today?” it’s really mostly just sad. I know it’s very mom-like to be all, “Well, you should really just feel SORRY for that bully,” but in this case, you actually should. That would be a HORRIBLE life.
“Her comeback: “At least my car isn’t A TOY!” …Good one? I guess?”
And @Sars your response was “well, we can’t all drive planet-killers*” right?
*Yeah, it’s a cheapshot and not meant to demean people who need bigger cars and aren’t dicks
I’m quite short, but also quite fat (and not ashamed of it). I have a friend who *does* have trouble with getting sufficient access to the accessible stall when she needs it, and she and I discussed this once. I was taught it was generally good manners to leave it available for those who need it, but I also found that I was often terribly uncomfortable in regular stalls, and couldn’t really resolve these two things. Her take was that, while being fat is certainly not a disability, much of the world isn’t designed for *my* access and comfort, either, and there’s nothing wrong with finding a comfortable way to use the fucking bathroom. (Her pet peeve is mostly folks in airports, who feel that luggage = disability.) She also pointed out that many things that are uncomfortable for fat folks are also badly designed for people with disabilities.
Hey, here’s a radical idea — what if places were designed to comfortable and accessible to as many different kinds of bodies as possible?!?! (Oh, wait, the Universal Design folks have already pointed this out. Rats.)
In practice, I try to use the accessible stall if I’m unfamiliar with the bathroom, or the stalls look small. If I’ve been there before (like at work), and I know the regular stalls are sufficient, I try to leave the accessible stall free for those who may need it. And I would have gone OFF on anyone trying to challenge me about it.
La BellaDonna, you’re awesome. The crap I get (in public! from strangers! or in the form of sub-par medical care!) for being fat is unbelievable.
@Scared–thanks for responding. It sounds to me like you’re making a reasonable call at this point: you give a solid try at helping your mom because you don’t just want to leave her suffering without an attempt at improving things, but you also focus on finding a way to be okay with your own situation even if hers (and the rest of your family’s) doesn’t improve. I do especially think that you’re feeling some inappropriate pressure to handle stuff that your dad isn’t–your dad seems to have made a de facto decision to prioritize avoiding an interaction with your mother over keeping a tighter rein on the marital money, and I’m a little suspicious that the interaction duties seem to be getting farmed out to you while he gets to remains passive and risk-free. So try to help in a specific and sanely limited way, celebrate being “dramatic” since it’s apparently the family term for “the one with sufficient courage to address a problem directly,” and remember that this is an above-and-beyond thing, not your official family job, and that you’re a fine and loyal offspring even if the situation doesn’t change, because you’re not the family thermostat.
@Valkyrie: Poo Hag was completely out of line for asking you in the first place. As others have pointed out, not every disability is visible, it’s rude to ask you in the first place, and that information is only the business of your own and your doctor.
Both of my sisters were in wheelchairs, my mother is now disabled (complete with service animal action accessory!), and I’m frequently injured (on account of being the Archduchess of Clumsyvania). And yeah, it’s mildly irritating when you’re on crutches and have to wait for the gimp stall. But you know what? That’s happened to me exactly once in 34 years. Bitchcakes needs to mind her own damn business and STAY OFF MY SIDE. A three minute wait isn’t the end of the world.
And we won’t talk about the parking lot arguments I’ve gotten into… or the big burly men I’ve scared… or the people I’ve had towed… or the tenants I’ve had evicted from paid parking lots when somebody without a tag snipes disabled parking. Ever tried maneuvering two medically-fragile teenagers in wheelchairs into or out of a vehicle parked in a standard parking space?
@Karen – “La BellaDonna, you’re awesome. The crap I get (in public! from strangers! or in the form of sub-par medical care!) for being fat is unbelievable.”
I grew up an overweight kid. As an adult, I’ve been very thin and am currently very heavy (at least, my knees and back tell me so). I hear ya.
I have some dear friends who are … extremely extremely heavy. When they visit me in NY, I go on red alert in case anyone wants to make a smart remark. As for my own weight, I am an emotional eater, I put it on, I’ll deal with it. My friends did tell me about one instance when a man walked up to the three of them and said, “Ladies? Two words: Slim Fast.”
They’re nice people, so they were just like, “Um, yeah, whatever,” and kept going. My favorite response?
“Dude? One word: lobotomy.”
I am so completely jealous of Sars’s (and others’) Smart Cars that the idea that some people get bent out of shape because said cars take up whole parking spaces even though they are small boggles my mind.
Wow, people, get a grip.
@Valkyrie: Something sort of similar happened to me recently. Some woman at the gym took issue with how I FLUSHED THE TOILET. Yes, I shit you not.
For me, the decision to use a handicapped stall is situational. I used to work with disabled students in the UC-Berkeley dorms, and I was a total Poo Nazi there, since there were about seven regular stalls, and only one disabled stall for six or seven students. So yeah, I tore some heads off when I’d be waiting outside the stall with a student for ages, only to see that some coed had decided to gank the stall, even though all the others were open. Also keep in mind that some of my students had spinal traumas that screwed up their bladder and bowel signals, so we often didn’t know to go to the bathroom until it was Code Red. Yep, I was a bitch about it, but there was a very good reason for it!
But other than that? As long as there’s not someone in a chair waiting, then by all means make yourself comfortable in the big stall.
This reminds me of my Horrible/Hilarious Sandal-in-Toilet incident – one day at a restaurant with a single-occupancy bathroom I accidentally lost my sandal to the toilet after pushing the pedal thingy with my foot to flush the toilet. Luckily the sandal escape was post-flush, but still, EW! So I’m thinking, egads, what do I do? how will I get home sans my left shoe? Then I rallied, raided the cabinet for cleaning products, disinfected the shoe, dried it off with the air-blower thingy, and exited the bathroom. A woman standing outside said to me, “You know, there are people waiting to use the bathroom…” Mortified, I said, “Um, I had an emergency.” Woman was in turn COMPLETELY mortified, and said, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you OK, I am such a bitch, can I get you anything??” And I just sheepishly walked away. And later trashed the shoes.
@Karen and RJ: Since I’ve been called “skinny” to my face (!) and excoriated for being “fat” in the same week, I am convinced that there is No Pleasing Everyone, and I wasn’t put here on Earth to do it, either, and I will happily stand up for myself and anyone else in my vicinity, because I friggin’ hate bullies of every stripe. It ISN’T out of kindness or concern, whatever the ConcernTrolls on the Internet might say: it’s bullying. It’s punishing people for not being as pretty enough for the All-Important Viewer to look at, and F*ck That Sh*t.
Sars: For the nitwits who give you issue about parking your bitty car in a parking space – what on earth are you supposed to do? Tow a second little car along to fully utilize the entire parking space? God. Tell ’em you need the rest of the space for your pocketbook.
Can two Smart Cars fit into a standard parking space? If so, Random Driver, feel free to get one of your own, and look to share. If not – well, it’s my understanding that standard-sized parking spaces are A STANDARD SIZE! and meant to accommodate varying sizes of vehicles. The fact that you drive a Smart Car is no different from someone else pulling a Volkswagon Beetle or a Triumph Spitfire or any other small vehicle into a parking space. You’re not actually REQUIRED to fill the entire thing.
Kelly: it still might have been better to have signs up reminding the students to leave the handicapped stall available for the handicapped students when standard stalls were free, because unless you had access to other people’s medical history, or these were people with whom you were personally acquainted (and whose medical history you knew) – yeah, you were doing what we’re asking people not to do – not assume that you KNOW whether or not the person using the stall truly needed it. You knew that the people you were with needed to use the handicapped stall – but if it was a complete stranger in that handicapped stall, there’s no knowing if she had a medical need to use that stall.
I’d have been tempted to tell the Smart-Car-Booer that the rest of the space was reserved for HER, since she was apparently determined to crawl up your butt anyway.
@LaBellaDonna: let me clarify. The students were specifically told NOT to use those stalls. We were told if there were students with special needs who were not part of our program, so most likely we would have known if said student(s) had a need for the disabled stall. I generally was nice about it the first time, but with the repeat offenders? Oh hell no. Picture sitting outside of the one handicapped stall with a student who is in tears because she is about to wet herself, since it’s occupied by a tiny wee coed who liked to hang out in there to read her magazine. I was way past polite at that time.
Anyway, this is pretty much irrelevant to the question, I bet!
@La Belladonna “the definition of what is “fat” keeps spiralling DOWNWARD; I guess it’s to widen the field of targets for would-be abusers”. I have heard women use the word “fat” concerning people that were clearly, absolutely not. When women want to really tear each other down, they go to one of two things: “fatty” or “slut”. This phenomenon tells me a lot about the state of feminism today…
@Liz in Minneapolis — wow. Well said. That is exactly how, and probably exactly why, I react to being dressed down by nutters in public. I had a woman once follow me INTO a store, to berate me for not yielding her the right of way (because *I* had the right of way). I wish I had been able to say something to her that would’ve made her see that 1.) she was being a psycho, and 2.) that she was wrong. Instead I just said “ok, whatever” and slunk away. Unfortunately there’s nothing you can say to those angry people. They’re looking to dump their shit on someone else, and if you snap back instead of slinking away, well a shouting match is even better.
Oh dear. I can’t read “itty-bitty-car-driving dick” without thinking of an itty bitty dick that happens to be able to drive a car. Like…imagine a dude saying “hey now, don’t be turned off by the size – it can drive this CAR!”
“fiiling a complaint or a report might not stop her behavior, ”
There’s no permanent record for the rude. Who are you going to call? Manners police? I’m as appalled as anyone at the Poo Hag, but it’s not possible to report all bad behavior to some authority figure.
“having a person in authority – store mgr, police officer – telling her that she’s wrong”
We’re not living in a police state.
Responding to one of the posters above, it’s true, of course luggage doesn’t equal disability but speaking as someone who has to carry a musical instrument about, these cramped toilet stalls that don’t even have enough room for a person never mind any luggage are a problem. What are you supposed to do if you are travelling on your own – leave valuable things outside the toilet so someone can steal them? I have noticed that some newer places in the UK (like Terminal 5 at Heathrow) are beginning to make the stalls larger when they refurbish, presumably for this reason.
I would always let someone disabled, with young children, etc go ahead of me but the real problem is these toilets that don’t even have enough room for the sanitary bin, never mind anything else.
Not that any amount of reasoning can possibly excuse ranting so rudely at a complete stranger!
It’s my understanding that the people who are most likely to be unable to use any but the large stalls–wheelchair users–are also less likely to be able to wait even a short time. Once they’re in the stall, it still takes them time to maneuver out of the chair, out of their pants, and onto the toilet. It may also have taken them significantly longer to get to the bathroom than most of us might realize–because the only wheelchair-accessible elevator is at the back of the building, on the opposite end of the floor from the bathrooms, for example. And as Kelly mentioned, depending on the reason for people’s wheelchair use, their digestive systems may also behave unpredictably and/or may not give them much warning when they need to go. So I do think it’s important that those of us who can just as easily use the smaller stalls do so whenever possible, because we have no way of knowing if someone who really needs the large stall immediately might come in.
But for Valkyrie and others on this thread who may not be wheelchair users but do have significant difficulty using the smaller stalls, I don’t see any reason they shouldn’t use the wheelchair-accessible one if it’s free. Office Outrage was clearly WAY out of line. There’s (almost) never any excuse for berating a complete stranger, and there is most certainly never any excuse for demanding that a complete stranger reveal her private medical history to some Nosy Nelly at the sinks. And I think Jen’s onto something about fat-hate being a big factor here.
There’s a table at Starbucks with a sign on it that reads something like, “Please offer to our disabled patrons.” I would treat the handicapped stall the same way.
Kelly: No, no, what you had to say was absolutely germane to the conversation (as far as I can tell, at least). You had access to good information – you WERE part of a program/group of People Who Would Know – and people in your building HAD been specifically requested to Leave These Stalls Free If Possible. I’d be right up there next to you bowling with skulls, under the circumstances.
I know I’m totally late to this, but dude. I am 5’6″ and not disabled, but I often find myself in the handicapped stalls. Why? Well, while I may not be in a wheelchair, I do have a 23-lb. growth named Cooper, and for some reason, a lot of public places are putting their diaper changing tables in the handicapped stalls now instead of just on the wall by the sinks or wherever.
Luckily, I’ve never been in a situation where someone with a wheelchair, or with Crohn’s disease has really needed it, but dude. Diaper changes can take a long time when you have a squirmy baby and winter layers. Even if I’m not changing his diaper, if we’re at the mall or something and he’s in his stroller, the handicapped stall is the only place he’ll fit. I can’t just leave him out in the middle of the bathroom unattended.
The point is, handicapped stalls are not like handicapped parking spaces. All sorts of people need to use them, and as long as you’re not yelling, “fuck you, wheels!” and slamming the door, I think you’re fine.