In thickly accented English, an Israeli guest at the Luxe in Beverly Hills explained that

he was in the US for six weeks and needed a disabled parking pass.

That's not something I handle, but he added that he had the Department of Motor

Vehicles form. All he needed was my signature. I offered to come to the hotel, but – even at half my usual fee – he didn't want to pay. I could have politely withdrawn, but he might ask the hotel to recommend another doctor, never a good idea. As I do when it's an easy service, I told him that, provided he were genuinely disabled, I would sign the form gratis if he came to my apartment.

After hanging up, I felt uneasy. Eleven percent of Los Angeles cars have a disabled

parking pass; it's clearly a scam, and I didn't want to add to it. What if I had to refuse him? When guests complain after I refuse narcotics, hotel management takes this with a grain of salt, but a parking pass….

When I went to the door an hour later, I was relieved to see he had only one leg. So I

signed.

Mike Oppenheim