Track & Field started!

woooohoooooooooo… sure, lots of people like Track & Field.
For me, it stands at the same level as swimming and track cycling.

I was always the gymnast person.

As I age, I’ve been into archery, followed by shooting – purely because I shoot. So, I can relate.
Archery being slower on camera is preferred, though essentially they both require one major element: mental strength.

This is one sport (like golf too), where you are your opponent. Nothing else matters … well, the wind can be a bitch. But that aside, you can be a socially awkward and/or introvert like me and still enjoy the sport and excel in it.

So, what’s so compelling about Track & Field this time around?
Usain Bolt . Oscar Pistorius .

I’ve bore my sister to death about their stats … poor her, strapped in on a rather uncomfortable bed in the delivery ward with limited movement allowed as the O&G desperately tries to minimize Benji’s early contractions … so frankly, she had really little choice but to listen to geeky me ramble about facts no one really wanted to know, care to know or even knew about both Usain Bolt and Oscar Pistorius to begin with. Oscar Pistorius in particular given – who watches the Paralympics?

Since, I’ve done my verbiage aka verbal diarrhea unload, you’ll be spared most of it here to two simple short sentences for each.

Bolt: scoliosis resulting in 1/2″ shorter left leg.
Pistorius: double amputee running on carbon blades.

Bolt: kick-arse attitude that either makes you love him or hate him.
Pistorius: plain cute. {I am still a girl at heart! ;p}

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I’ve had a run-in with the car park management people in my building.
In their overzealous effort to please visitors – which is far and few in between – they had insisted that we folks, the seasoned parkers who pay obscene amounts of money be cleared off some floors. I have no issues with this in principle. Every building does this; the more convenient floors for visitors.

The problem with the car park, the building and the car park management is:
there is NO handicap parking allocation

If that’s not bad enough, this building rivals that of the Pompidou Center in numbers of building innards running illogically through the car parks rendering at least 20% of the spots impossibly low for any 4×4 to park.

Maneuvering through the 20 levels of underground labyrinth with ramps that threatens to make their mark on your tyre rims and car park lots that fits only a TATA Nano, you’d be convinced that numerous parties have been bribed. And that’s even before you’ve alighted your vehicle to discover that the car park structure is disjointed from the actual building proper with only a few floors meeting at the same alleviation. The average number of steps one has to encounter are 10, and the most being 21.

All of the above inconvenience and non-compliance I had accepted gracefully – Malaysia is after all full of “handicaps” and we can’t actually expect the government of the private sector to cater for all our overwhelming needs. This point of course is not statistically or empirically backed, but who needs government-published stats/ lies? when a visit on any given day at any given hour to any mall in Kuala Lumpur will confirm the occupancy rate of handicap lots by “handicaps”.

So, in short I have gotten used to the fact that:

So, in shortshort I h“screw the real handicaps and those really in need of it”

But what I couldn’t accept was the car park management people in my building’s disgraceful “name and shame” tactics; i.e. photographing my darling leland and circulating the photo in a memo that clearly shows my car’s registration number, the parking lot number and a text with my name, floor and unit information that any potential kidnapper, rapist, murderer would have had his arse rolling in laughter receiving it.

With all the almost daily news reporting of  Theodore Robert “Ted” Bundy wannabe around town, I am furious. Anyone would be furious.

And at times like these, I refuse to be victimised.
Police report lodged.
Fire authorities report lodged.
Photo of my darling leland sporting handicap stickers taken {interesting how the building management people had angled their shots to omit the handicap sticker displayed prominently on my windscreen}. Handicap registration card scanned.

“Screw you” letter written … not sent … waiting for the moment.

On days where my legs seems to be at odds with themselves and begs to be disjointed from me all together while I brave the 21 steps …
I wanna burn the place down.
I wanna issue them a  Letter of Demand {on what? I am yet to figure out}.
I wanna rape and kill every one of the management office employees’ sister, wife, mother, village … I so wanna be part of Mario Puzo’s fantasy.

Then, the folks like Pistorius and Bolt, jolts me out of my dark and angry cracks.
I rise above the idiots whom I’ve encountered that asked me if I could buy them an extra handicap sticker for their car.
I rise above the idiots who parks at handicap lots.
I rise above the need to spat sarcasm at idiots who ask me any “how do I benefit from being handicap” questions.


4 thoughts on “Track & Field started!

  1. Thanks dudeS … I'm assuming the anon is a bloke too, but heck, let's got with the traditional English language "mankind", "man", "men" in reference to both genders in general.

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