17 May 2005

It's my birthday dammit! I'm supposed to get stuff, I'm not supposed to be expected to give my money away!

What did I get in the post this morning? A council tax bill. Woohoo. No shiny cards for Lisy. Nope. Just a demand for over a grand.

And then a little while ago I had a chugger at my door. She was scrounging for Greater London Fund for the Blind.

She started off by asking if I was the millionaire she'd been looking for. "I live in a council flat, it's 3pm, I'm at home and still in my pyjama's."

I then explained that I don't support charities that beg on behalf of disabled people, I'm much more in favour of rights.

Apparently if she wasn't scrounging at my door "The Blind" wouldn't have 'the right' to work in Sainsbury's or Asda because without her begging "The Blind" wouldn't have "braille tills and stuff" so "The blind" would have to sit at home all day. "And that's not fair or right, is it?"

She'd not heard of Access to Work and didn't believe me that it existed.

She then proceeded to ask about my impairment, and then informed me that "you'll do fine with your pretty face..." Nice to know. I'll remember that next time I can't get somewhere I want to go. "But I'm pretty!" I shall shout, and all access barriers shall melt away before me.

So that's why "The Blind" need her begging on their behalf? Because they're not pretty enough? Why is she begging for money for equipment then? Access to Work could fund that, so, surely, she should be begging to make "The Blind" more pretty to make them more employable? "Pah to having access to documents in braille. What you really need is braces to make your grin less toothy then people will be falling over themselves to employ you."

Somehow, I think not.

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