Some people are so special

There are people who think they deserve special treatment and there are people who don't ask for help when they clearly need it.

Lottie and I queued for an hour and a half in a very cold wind outside the police station this morning so we could finally apply for residencia. It's a miserable task and one I've had to do alone several times in the run up to this application. The crowd at the bottom of the steps always looks down-trodden and disheveled. All eyes remain glued to the entrance, papers in hand.

Along came two young women dressed in cheap tarty clothes, all clacking heels, peeking thongs and fake fur. Clack, clack, clack up the steps they went with hips swaying and eyes ahead. Their mission, which was clearly premeditated, was to get in without queuing as though this was a nightclub entrance they were trying to blag their way into.

I had full faith in the copper at the top sending them packing to the end of the queue but, for a second, I doubted him as he eyed them up and down and blushed a bit. He did finally re-direct them to their proper positions but not after apologising in an 'If it was up to me, I would let you in' way. Their seductive act dropped, clack, clack, clack, clack back down they bounced with huffs, tuts and looks of disdain.

Lottie and I were in next. A few minutes later, after handing in our paperwork and Lottie drawing on the desk in biro, we too walked down the steps and left. As we walked away from the building, we came across an old man sitting in a wheelchair stuck between two cars. He was dirty, his wheelchair was dirty, his leg was wrapped in a dirty bandage, his toe looked to have ten years of nail growth on it, he had no teeth left and he looked shrunken in his chair.

One thing he did have though was a smile. He just sat there, making failed attempts to maneuver his chair, and smiled at Lottie and me. I pushed him between the cars, up a curb, along a very pot holed path and to the end of the queue. This queue of people, ended by the two blaggers, had probably seen this man stuck and in need. I glanced around before letting go of the handlebars. Some people looked embarassed and some sniggered, but most just turned back to the entrance. The man in the wheelchair never demanded to go to the front but instead smiled at me profusely with his toothless face.

If only the world was like that; ordinary but demanding people always being refused special treatment and silent but needy people getting the help they deserve.