“Say it,” I said. I knew I was being forceful, but she just wouldn’t say it. I wanted her to say it and the tone in my voice made that clear.

I’m doing this more often, and I may have written about this before, but I’m liking this new strategy, new kind of reasonable stridency regarding my freedom of movement, my access and welcome and my realistic expectations of businesses and community offerings.

I had called to ask if a restaurant was accessible.

I was told that it was.

“Do you have an accessible toilet?”

“Well, no.”

“Then you aren’t accessible.”

“No, no, we are, we have a flat entrance and you can easily get to our tables.”

“But I can’t go to the toilet when I’m there.”


“And this is a restaurant?”


“And do many customers use your facilities on arrival or before leaving?”

“Yes, most,”

“But I  wouldn’t be able to?”


“Then say it.

“Say what?”

“We are not accessible.”

“But we are.”

“No, you are not. What are we supposed to do after having something eat and drink and we need to go to the washroom.”

“I told you we don’t have an accessible toilet.”

“Then you aren’t accessible.”


“No, you aren’t.”

“Just say that you aren’t accessible and I’ll hang up the phone and leave you alone.”


“Just say it.”


This happens a lot. They don’t want to say they aren’t accessible even when they aren’t. Isn’t it odd. They make it that we have to call them and talk to them about the toilet because they aren’t honest in their answers about accessibility.

I want them to have to say it.

Or refuse to say it.

Either is good with me.

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