Scribblings

One of THOSE days

Started out going to a place at 4111 Minnesota Blvd. to get the color for the crown on my tooth done correctly. Got there to find out that here in Alaska, we apparently don’t give a crap about providing access to everyone. The business was on the second floor and there was no handicap access. They had handicap parking spaces but those were just to lull you into a false sense of security because, once you so conveniently parked, there was no way to get to where you needed to go. So I guess if you want the service, you either have to crawl up the stairs hauling your wheelchair behind you or you don’t get their services. I made a very painful climb up and down the stairs with the broken bone in my foot.

When I got home, I made a bunch of phone calls. Let me start by saying that everyone in the various offices of the municipality were extremely nice and tried to be very helpful. Turns out that the word “reasonable” in the federal ADA law means nusinesses don’t have to provide access in an older building. So…

The name of the company is Castable Ceramics. If you get referred there by your dentist, ask for a different referral. We should not be supporting businesses that have no interest in providing equal access to all Alaskans. I will certainly never go there again.

Then I went to the post office at the Dimond Center. It’s moved. Its new address is somewhere east of Tierra Del Fuego… or at least that’s how it felt as I dragged myself around the mall looking for it. Turns out it’s down a long hallway on the other side of the mall – a hallway that is solid wall and looks like it leads to a perfect spot to mug someone. Not a hallway anyone would voluntarily walk down. To say nothing of the fact that it has an outside doorway that seems to be used for unloading most of the products you can buy in the mall so you are ducking carts while you walk down this hallway from The Shinning looking for a post office.

So much for the mall PO being in any way convenient.

Got to the post office almost in tears from the pain in my foot to find that Amazon had not given me a return address label to return the crappy pants I got from them and it would cost me $12 to mail them back. I gifted them to one of the female clerks and told her I hoped she could find someone to wear them.

Then I tried to find someone to hem the pants I did buy. The alteration shop at the mall is either closed or doesn’t advertise on all the boards that tell you what shops are there. The alteration place across from the mall near where PetSmart is – also missing in action. Pants still in the back of the car. May just put them in the nearest dumpster next time I’m out.

And now I’m home and all I can think is that I never want to go out again. Never.

Screw you, world. I’m getting stoned and watching NCIS reruns until I melt into my couch.

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