5. The Concession.

Well, I thought I'd start with an easy one and, strictly speaking, this probably shouldn't have even made it in here, but we just don't take advantage of it enough, so here goes...

You're nervously queuing at your local cinema. You finally get to the desk, and you say, "Two for Pearl Harbour,... Um, can we have seats near the front?" You pause, and then say, quietly but very, very quickly, "uh, is there any discount for disabled people?"

So, why the nervousness? And why do you become a complete shame-faced, stuttering wreck, simply for the sake of asking for your concession? Well, maybe because, deep down, you really don't think you deserve it! And what's more, it kind of makes you feel different, like one of the little people or something, rather than a fully paid up member of society.

Well here's where it stops! You get a concession at the cinema for one reason only - because you're entitled to it. And you're entitled to it because, as a blind person, you just can't take full advantage of the billions spent on making those movies, and this Is how, in some small way, you do your bit towards redressing that balance.

So, grab those concessions with both hands! Ask about them whenever you're booking in for anything, be it a visit to the theatre, a pass for Universal Studios, a day at the races, a dip in your local swimming pool, or even a flight across the world.

Now, this one really is taking advantage!

You're in a pub, and you're going to meet some friends. You go to the bar to get a round in, and you feel strangely attracted to the woman serving you. After ordering your drinks you say, "um, would you mind helping me to find my friends?" She says, "not at all, no problem" because your blind and how can she say no!

Now, of course, unbeknown to her, you've known where your friends are all along. You can hear them over there in that corner, guffawing with laughter, and shouting at their dogs to lie down, but you needed some way to make that introduction, right?

Well, yeah, we've all done it! And, I like to think of this shameless display of self-promotion as just our way of making up for losing out on the whole eye-contact thing. So, next time you're at that bar, or in that taxi, or whatever, just go ahead, and squeeze that perfect moment for all that it's worth!

Have you ever been to Disney World? Well, I have, twice. The first time, I was sixteen and, like most sixteen-year-olds, so anxious to be normal I didn't know who I was! It didn't occur to me to wonder if I could use my blindness to skip through some of those two hour long queues. The second time, I was much wiser. I got my special queue-jumping pass, (for some unfathomable reason, that's not what Disney have chosen to call it), and managed to get on lots more rides than usual, (usual being about three a day at Disney World).

Since then, I've discovered lots of places I can use my queue-jumping privileges. Quite apart from the huge number of theme parks in the world, There's the huge number of taxi queues, and I thought I'd just share with you the three basic ways I've developed for jumping cab queues:

a. Helplessness. This one works particularly well for taxi queues outside London train stations. Get one of the station staff to help you find the taxi rank. It is particularly helpful if you can be effecting to struggle under the weight of your luggage while you're on your way to the queue. If you play this just right, your assistant is sure to take you right up to the front of the queue and secure your cab for you. And, no one in the queue behind you will mind, 'cos you're clearly a poor and very put upon blind person.

B. Blessed Ignorance. This method, (otherwise known as Brazenness), involves confidently striding right up to the front of the queue, as if you think the back of the queue is at that end. I have actually done this once, completely accidentally, and got away with it. So, I can only assume, that doing it purposefully would work too. Try it out and let me know!

c. Gratitude. When it's bitterly cold, the cabs are only rolling up at a rate of one every quarter of an hour, and you're fifth in the queue, and the man at the front offers you his cab, for god's sake, just take it! I know that some of you in this situation would turn the offer down, feeling that he only offered it because you're blind, and that it's frankly below you to accept such blatant charity! Well, get real, and don't be such a bloody martyr. Your shivering for an extra hour ain't gonna change the world, so just thank the guy and get in!

Despite this only making it to number 2, it is on the rough, tough, slightly unseemly side of playing the blind card! It mostly happens on trains, trams and buses, and methods range from going through the gate instead of the ticket barrier on London underground stations, (where you get the distinct impression that the underground staff would think you extremely odd if you tried to show them a ticket), to fumbling around in your bag on a train, intermittently saying things like, "I'm sure it's in here somewhere", and "I know I've got one, I just can't seem to find it".

Other methods include simply getting on trams, trains and buses, flailing white sticks and dogs, in the vague conviction that you and the ticket man have an understanding, and he wouldn't want to be bothered with all that checking passes nonsense!

In fact there are, if not justifications for this sort of behaviour, then some factors which support the possibility of accidental fare dodging - yes, that's right, you're just a victim in all this! For example, about ten years ago in Manchester they built a fabulous new tram system and, in it's design, many aspects of accessibility had been considered. So, the tram routes linked perfectly with bus and train routes, and the trams were made to be wheelchair accessible. There was only one thing they missed... Before boarding a tram, one was supposed to get the appropriate tram ticket out of a little machine at the tram stop - need I go on? Of course, these machines were inaccessible to blind people, so, how could we get a ticket, even if we wanted to!

And there's also the situation where you're getting a train, and you have your guide dog in one hand, rucksack on your back, and a bag in your other hand. It's perfectly legitimate in these circumstances to buy your ticket on the train, rather than wrestling with your luggage at the ticket booth. And, if the guard doesn't come and ask for your ticket, well, how are you supposed to buy one? You'd get one if only the guard would do his job properly, right?

I've recently discovered a delightful little technique of avoiding the fare even If the guard asks you for your ticket, and it goes like this...

The guard says, "Your ticket please sir/madam?" You reply, "Do you think I'll be able to catch my connection at crew?" Or, "Could you tell me where the Buffet Car is, and if it's open?" Or, "Is there a trolley on-board? I'm getting a bit dehydrated!" The mere act of answering your question seems, in most cases, to make the guard lose his train of thought and, thus, forget all about seeing your ticket!

Ah, this is my personal favourite, and a little bit of luxury goes a very long way. The easiest upgrade to come by is, again, on trains, where they'll quite happily dump you in First Class just to save themselves the bother of finding you a decent seat in what they so lovingly like to call, "Standard Class". Of course, if you wanted to push a point, you could say that we should get First Class train tickets at a discount anyway, as we are so spectacularly unable to make the most of the free newspaper!

I have known a number of people get upgraded to First, or at least Business Class on airlines too, but my favourite upgrade of all time came at the hands of a rather nice American hotel. When checking in with my companions, I asked if they had adjacent rooms, as I would have trouble finding my companions' room otherwise. By lucky happenchance, they interpreted "adjacent" as meaning adjoining, said they didn't have any adjoining rooms available, and that they would put us in the two bedroom penthouse, just for that night. We remained there for the whole two weeks! Fabulous!

And to think people feel sorry for us!



You can email The Count If you have anything to say about this article, or anything else!
Or click here to have your say on our message board.




Take me Back Home