Dear Mobility Scooter Fucker:

I get it. You can’t walk. Or you don’t want to walk. Whatever. Despite this challenge, you still long to be a part of the wonderful tradition of Christmas spirit. So you did what the rest of us unoriginal drones do and made your way to your local Target for some sweat shop craft ornaments, irregular towels that are sold under their private label and open bags of close out seasonal candy left over from Halloween. Who can blame you? Nobody likes to be denied a shot at the American Dream. 

But here’s the thing. The fact that you cannot/will not walk does not entitle you block two aisles at the corner while you make multiple attempts at squeezing yourself into spaces in which you could not have fit had you been able to walk. Spaces into which a child would have a difficult time fitting. I mean, yes. Target is super greedy and lazy. They create space for thousands of holiday items without actually divesting themselves of the necessary inventory required to create that space. But most people just reach their arms into those spaces, because they have a rudimentary grasp of physics which allows them to conclude that their actual bodies are too large to fit. Or else they make their kids and/or midget sized friends get the items for them. They do not, however, ram the bumper of their mobility scooter into whatever happens to be in the way with the insane delusion that they either can or should be retrieving said items themselves, all the while making several people wait behind them before finally giving up and moving on to their next time waster. 

Scooter Fucker, wheelchairs are designed to be prosthetic. The best ones are lean, efficient, and allow the user to maneuver almost as dexterously as he would without one. By contrast, your lay-z-boy on wheels achieves the exact opposite effect. Walking requires EFFORT. As do wheelchairs. While I have some sympathy for the fact that you maybe, might not be able to walk (maybe), I fail to see how the fact that you use a prosthetic device created to simulate walking, exempts you from having to expend effort either on its operation or on life in general. The device is supposed to replace whatever isn’t working, not relieve you of the responsibility of having to try. Spoiler Alert: beeping your clown car horn at people who are expending energy to walk is NOT trying. 

Which is why, you know, we have those awesome Paralympic events where people compete at advanced levels despite disabilities and zero events where people compete to see who can take up the most space in a situation, bug the shit out of everyone who comes in contact with them and yet not accomplish a fucking thing. 

Well, if you don’t count congress. 

PS. Dorothy Hamill called. She wants her 1978 hairstyle back. 

PSS. Mark Hamill called. He wants his 1978 hairstyle back. And he wants 1978 back, but that’s not your problem.  


  1. I’m even more bugged by the team shoppers who shuffle in front of me two, three, four or more abreast with one or more carts and maybe a stroller when not one of them will step aside to let anyone pass.


  2. Here’s the good news – with some luck, you too can be a Scooter Fucker. It’s really, really bad luck and I hope it doesn’t happen, as enlightening as it might be. (Don’t suppose you offered to help them get what they were trying to reach.)


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