Scumbags

Who is old enough to remember a great joke from the 90’s about Lawyers

Joke goes like this “What do you call 100 lawyers at the bottom of the ocean?”

Answer: A bloody good start.

I offer you the modern version. “What do you call 100 real estate agents at the bottom of the ocean?”

Think you have this from here?

What kind of scumbag sells a forever home to someone who has disabilities advising them falsely on how easy they can access things like I don’t know, a car space, power to a mobility scooter and not tell them of impending costs and increase in fees?

Did I mention we are up for a new lift in 2026? Annoyingly, the lift has been a major annoyance this year, often being out of action for days, sometimes only hours. One particular Friday, I left to go shopping and my phone blew up as the building group chat had so many messages about the lift being out. I had to right leg it up the stairs upon returning from shopping with a carer on her first day with me.

A few strangers, neighbours in the building had come out to help carry my shopping upstairs and for that I was very grateful, but alas, being in a building with only one lift was something that was an afterthought, in the end once I found the right location, number of bedrooms and within a budget, I could cope with.

Thanks dad! Love you, Dad. Don’t hate me because my father loved me.

Spitting Chips

Now, this post should come with a warning, there will be swearing or alluding to words I normally will not so much as utter, but I feel you will allow considering the circumstances.

There was one particular Monday, I went down to fang it to a 12.30pm appointment. I had another appointment at the same practice, so Hellonwheels comes in handy. Even allowing me to scoop up take-away on my way home and maybe some items from a supermarket. Fresh milk anyone?

I went into the garage and had two sets of keys in my hand as well as my walking stick and the flag for my scooter. I keep the flag inside as it’s not my first flag. If it’s a selfish person or a low hanging branch they seem to walk.

I walked in the direction of my scooter and looked up, my step slowed when I realised it was not where I expected it to be. The transformer cords dangling loose out of the EV cabinet. Eyes wild, I couldn’t decide if I leave the flag where I expected to find my scooter.

But time was short, I only had 20 minutes until my first appointment, I couldn’t afford to reschedule. I had to get to both that day.

Mother trucker!

What kind of LOW LIFE Scumbag steals a Mobility Scooter? I’m still months later yet to cry. What’s the point? Too angry! One-handed without pockets I was juggling two sets of keys, my walking stick and the flag. Don’t even know why I was still holding on to that.

All while calling my lovely Young John. No time to talk. Was he free? Could he help me get to my appointment? Use the key to get from the carpark into the foyer and then the lift.

Next call to who Young John would refer to as my Indian boyfriend. Basically, any other taxi driver I call to be my transport.

I had to problem solve getting to my appointments. Unlock my front door after going up in the lift. Put flag and scooter keys inside. Back downstairs and out to the street. Get in taxi. Call Owner Corp regarding CCTV Footage. That process alone should have been easier. Made it to my appointment only fifteen minutes late. So grumpy, I did not manage to sleep at my physio appointment. So angry I was.