Be Vigilant!

There are fake disabled people out there, that may choke your babies, give off poisonous fumes when on fire, and get in your way because you're a fat lazy bastard who can't be bothered to walk more than ten metres from my disabled parking space . . .

I was annoyed (as always) by yet another of those "I've nothing against disabled people as long as they're genuinely disabled" comments in the Guardian. As though we have to prove to your average Joe what is humiliating enough to have to prove not just to the ATOS Gestapo but even a Social Services physiotherapist.

So, I made a cynical joke of it. One day, I will learn that my jokes aren't funny; they have a nast habit of turning out not to be jokes at all.

Do I have to wear my disability registration number on my back when I go out in public? In a tasteful orange triangle perhaps? 

I wrote in response.

Another reader replied:

If some people had their way you would.


In one post I read on the Telegraph a couple of weeks ago it was proposed that all vehicles supplied by the Motability scheme should be marked up as such so they were clearly identifiable and so "concerned citizens" could understand who was getting "handouts" from the state and that "fair minded citizens" could, by enquiring, check for themselves that the occupant was genuinely "deserving".
So, vigilante-ism now comes to disability assessment.

Well, luckily there's a tattoo parlour not that far from my flat. I must get my disability registration number tastefully inked in somewhere. Along with the phone number for Social Services so 'fair-minded citizens' can check whether I'm really 'genuine'.

The question is, where? One number on each buttock, perhaps?