You are the kids' dentist who has an office across the street from the Westminster Mall. You (and sometimes your husband) drive a big, black, ugly Rolls-Royce with a handicap placard. Who did you pay to get that? You have the unmitigated gall to park in the only handicap space in the parking lot all day long, which is located at the opposite end of your office. In the meantime, people who are in wheelchairs and crutches cannot park in a handicap space. You are more concerned about a door ding than the truly disabled. There are no words to describe how despicable you are.
