By Tom Fegan
A friend regaled his recent visit to Wal-Mart to me. He witnessed a carload of teenage boys and girls bounce out of a car parked in a handicap space. The vehicle had a handicap sticker on the back window and notations on the license plates. They gabbed and laughed outside the store as he approached, “My condolences.”
They stared at him puzzled. “That your car is handicapped,” he pointed.
The driver, a girl giggled, “It’s my grandma’s car.”
My friend nodded, “Thoughtlessness can be a handicap.” He sighed and walked pass them.