I had a long response post to this woman, TC, who commented about how I referred to the girl I had to nudge to give up the seat to on the MAX yesterday in my post on Transit. But I’ll set it aside and say this:
This blog is my personal place to write about all kinds of things. I’ve spent nearly my adult life reading body language. I kinda had to learn as a kid. If my reference to the able-bodied (and if she wasn’t, I’d be surprised) girl was wrong, fine, but she didn’t respond and say she needed the seat. If my knee and back hadn’t been hurting, I’d have gotten up. I use a cane. I sometimes appear able-bodied when my back and such aren’t giving me such grief. Lately they have. So I use those seats. When I feel okay, I do actually go to the other seats.
I was polite to the girl. But on my personal blog, where she likely isn’t going to see, yeah, I called out her young white girl able-bodied privilege. Apparently you don’t ride transit, TC, because if you did, you’d see the same crap I see over and over. People being disrespectful to disabled and elderly and not getting their asses up from the seats meant for disabled and elderly. Every day I go out and am on transit, I see at least one or two incidents of it. I see people try to pet service dogs without permission. I see people with their noses buried in their smartphones or books and not noticing that someone needs that seat. It’s way more disrespectful than me calling that girl “precious.” By a long shot.
I’ve gotten to a point in my life where I have the right to be a bitch. Don’t agree? I don’t care. I’m not on this planet to serve and placate people who think they have a right to tell me how to live/behave/dress.
If you dislike me and my views that much, go elsewhere. Stop reading my blog.
I won’t miss you, I promise.