Mr Frankovich has already been blasted for abusing the spirit of the Americans with Disability law, but lets pretend for a moment that it doesn't exist. Imagine I own a greasy spoon called The Carotid Artery. Only a single-wide door allows entrance into my cholesterol paradise, disallowing the most obese of customers. Lured by the smell of fresh meat, they gather around my door and try to wedge their lumbering masses into my humble cafe, but to no avail. Mr. Frankovich, liberator of the oppressed, will you have mercy on me?
Frankovich says he has no patience for the "mom-and-pop crap" as an excuse to not be complaint with ADA requirements that have been in effect since 1990. "Quit your crying and wimping and I'm a minority, because they are picking on the most deprived of minorities."Apparently not. I forgot the principle right of being able to do anything you what, wherever you want.
Perhaps I'm being a bit harsh, as he's talking about people in wheelchairs, not the obese. While people never choose to be wheelchair bound, I know that nobody has any duty to serve them, disabled or not. However, money talks. McDonalds will never turn me down while I have cold cash in my hand (with shirt and shoes), mostly because McDonalds likes money. They serve nasty "meat" products because I'll give them money for it. Yet if a ritzy jazz club that serves rich seniors wants to toss me out (and they will), that's their right.
Perhaps Mr. Frankovich ought to talk to this man:
