What is wrong with people from Purcellville?

I mean the ones from Purcellville, Virginia, specifically the ones who take the Loudon County Commuter bus, DC7.

I ride this bus to work now. I get on at the second stop on the route--the one past Purcellville. The bus has three double seats that have a bit more leg room, and they have placards that say that disabled people have priority in them. But every morning when I get on, of the 6-8 people already on it at least three will be in those seats already even though the rest of the bus is virtually empty. One woman in particular, a dour, fattish blonde about 50, will have her things spread out across both seats on that row so as to ensure that no one else sits next to her. It's not enough for her to take one of the disabled seats (the best ones--seats 13 and 14), she has to hog the adjacent seat too.
Now with my leg not having an ankle any more, and with limited range of motion at the knee, I don't fit all too well in the regular seats. I do much better for the long ride in one of these seats. And to be fair, it's only a problem on the DC7 bus, as passengers from Purcellville on the other buses don't rush to grab these seats like the ones on this run do.
Now me being who I am, I derive a certain pleasure from toying with this fattish woman. I singled her out because she's the most blatant offender and because when I do ask nicely if she'll move her handbag and let me sit down, she huffs and mutters under her breath, then refuses to move all the way over, obviously trying to make me uncomfortable enough to sit somewhere else.
She hasn't figured out yet that I'm much better at this than she is. I've seen her walk and there's nothing wrong with her. She just feels entitled to the extra space because she gets there first. I know that it burns her when I sit right next to her on a 95% empty bus, so I do it just for fun.
If I wanted to complain, I could, and the bus company would probably deal with her, but I just don't feel like going that route. Not yet. At least not until I'm done quietly tormenting her or I can egg her into a more overt confrontation. Please fattish woman...get upset in front of the other passengers about how I'm crowding "your" space. Then maybe I'll pull up my pant leg and we can discuss the merits of our relative disabilities--my missing leg and your missing conscience.