Extra wide and right next to the theatre entrance, it was the best spot in the parking lot. Heaven sent, given that it was getting close to when the movie was to start. There was only one thing wrong: It was clearly marked for someone with a disability.
From the back seat I stated the obvious.
No problem, the husband said, as he reached over to the glove compartment and took out an accessible parking tag. As he hung it on the rear-view mirror, I spluttered an objection but his wife – my friend – had already unhitched her seat belt and was on the pavement.
Neither of them had mobility issues. My friend’s father-in-law did. I don’t recall what he struggled with but I know he was easily winded; parking proximity would have been important. He didn’t go out often so the parking tag was kept, conveniently, in his son’s car.
The only thing I remember about the rest of the evening is silently wondering whether selfishness qualifies as a handicap. Well, that and the giant red flag erected in my mind. These people, I told myself, are not to be trusted. In the fullness of time I would be proven correct.
Jane Macdougall: You want real wisdom? Get an older friend
In romance, there’s something called “the ick” – a moment when attraction suddenly curdles into something repellent. All it takes is one transgression and – ick! – that’s it. Taxi! What is and isn’t ick is entirely subjective. It could be an overreaction to a peccadillo. Other times it’s serious data worth acting on.
Humans are always looking for clues to someone’s true self, that tiny shred of evidence that proves we’re a “good judge of character.” And once we’ve got our proof, the die is cast. The curious thing is how small the proof can be. You don’t have to be Churchill, who, long before he became prime minister, distrusted Hitler’s political ambitions. The truth can be as laid bare by the choices made in a parking lot.
If you want to get to know someone well, take them to Home Depot or Costco, load up a shopping cart and see what happens. One school of thought says the ultimate test of a person’s moral character is revealed by whether they return the cart after their purchases are unloaded.
Do they run it back to the cart corral? Or does the scofflaw simply push it up onto the curb or – even worse – leave it in the adjacent parking spot? Do they do the right thing even though there’s no one forcing them to do it? This is considered an apex example of character. Maybe not as cinematic as Rambo rescuing prisoners of war but a useful indicator just the same.
Jane Macdougall: How much worse could air travel actually get?
I wonder whether allowances are made for bad weather? Do you get extra points for gathering up another shopping cart and returning it along with the one you’re supposedly responsible for? Does the complicating presence of preschoolers count as a mitigating factor?
If I see a man pushing two or three carts back can I presume that he’s not an axe murderer and will make an excellent father/employee/neighbour? If a woman elects to nicely nestle her returned cart, is that a sign of trustworthiness?
Does the lesson here also apply to hotel towels and whether they’re rehung or thrown on the bathroom floor? And is it a red flag if someone’s towels are all emblazoned with hotel names? Red flag? Even if she claims her maiden name was Ramada Fairmont? Red flag?
Break a written rule and get away with it, you’re a maverick. Break an unwritten rule, you’re a pariah. Written rules are underpinned by authority; unwritten rules are grounded in community standards. We fear the proverbial slippery slope. In September, Finnish President Alexander Stubb quoted Mahatma Gandhi at the United Nations General Assembly: “The breach of one rule inevitably leads to the breach of other rules.”
Jane Macdougall: Sending a greeting card used to mean something. I miss those days
If you like reality shows, the vetting process for American Supreme Court judges is must-see TV. Unlike in Canada, where the process is non-partisan and based on merit, the American version is a showdown at the judicial O.K. Corral. The candidate is held accountable for a lifetime of transgressions, both real and manufactured.
What qualifies as a disqualifier is of perennial interest to the public. Wendy Wasserstein’s 1990s play An American Daughter recently concluded another run on Broadway. In it, a female candidate for U.S. surgeon-general botches her nomination based on her admission that she ignored jury duty summons and that her mom was “the kind of ordinary Indiana housewife who took pride in her icebox cakes and cheese pimento canapés.” Kaboom! Next!
The rear-view mirror of my life is a Flanders Fields of red flags – warnings that I chose to, or pretended to, ignore. Years bring wisdom. Sit in judgment, I say. Parking in a spot designated as an aid for someone like your very own dad is a huge indicator of character. A giant red flag snapping in the breeze if ever there was one.
Jane Macdougall is a writer based in Vancouver.