Part of my disability (Yeah, that’s right! I am claiming my socially inappropriate behavior as a disability now) includes awkwardness in certain conversations. I am blessed with the fact that I can generally talk to anyone about anything, however, it is the way those conversations unravel that can, at times, be suspect. You see, whenever I am talking with someone I tend to pick up their mannerisms. If they speak with a southern drawl, I begin to speak with a southern drawl. If they speak with a British accent, I begin to speak with a British accent. If they speak using a lot of ghetto slang, well then I… actually when that happens I just continue to speak proper English (When I attempt any sort of slang I sound pathetic, kind of like a female Carlton Banks). But I’m sure you get the picture. Anyway, this annoying little habit of mine can sometimes be cute and quirky but more often than not, just ends up being embarrassing for everyone involved. The person I am talking to usually thinks I am making fun of them and then I generally go into a 10 minute diatribe about being retarded at which point, I am in trouble for using the word retarded. Therefore, I have to stay incredibly alert when I am in the company of anyone other than friends, family or mental health professionals (I gave up trying to impress them years ago). Which is easier said than done when you work with the public.
Just today at work, a woman approached me in the stacks needing help finding a specific book and even though she had some pretty noteworthy eye-twitching going on, I was able to maintain professional demeanor. Well, until she started asking me what I liked to read. At that point, I became too relaxed (because I l-o-v-e to talk about books) and then it all went downhill. Before I knew it, I was in full blown mimic-mode. I kept blinking way too hard and way too fast. My nose kept wriggling around. I looked like I was having some sort of facial seizure. She just stared at me in disbelief and asked me if I was alright. I nodded and told her that my doctor was in the midst of switching my meds and I was having a few side effects. After I found her book , she told me she hoped I felt better. I smiled and replied, "Just keep me in your prayers". (I know. I'm ridiculous and I wish that was the worst story I had, but it isn't. I am going to tell you the worst story but be warned, it happened in a church and does not make me look good!)
Here we go: The social service agency that I was working for set up a donation and volunteer recruiting booth at an area church's fall festival. Everything was going well. We got a great spot (right between Big Brother, Big Sister and the agency that sends cows, rice, and ostriches to Third World Countries to be used for food and feather boas or something). I had passed out tons of inviting and colorful brochures and people seemed truly interested in donating food and time to homeless families. And then it happened... Two very nice ladies approached me and asked for information. One of the ladies was deaf (you know, Marlee Matlin - deaf, where she can read your lips and still speaks but she signs while she does it). I was sooooo proud of myself. I answered all of her questions clearly, intelligently, and at a normal decibel (Some people yell at the deaf, which is silly because deaf is deaf. But I don't do that. I am not completely socially inept). She and I actually had a great conversation (Her friend wasn't very friendly, though, she kind of looked angry with me. Maybe she was jealous of how well I adapt to people with "different abilities". It's a gift I have.) I was able to sign both of them up to be volunteers and even talked them into donating a meal to the shelter once a month! My boss, who was sitting next to me, was watching in astonishment. I was on fire! Oddly though,she kept trying to hold my hand (everybody wants to latch on to a winner.) But I just shook her off and kept going. Finally, the deaf lady (I know that is not politically correct but I don't remember he name) smiled and said sweetly "I can read your lips. You do not have to try and sign." I looked down at my hands in horror. Through the entire conversation, I had been signing, not gesturing with my hands, signing. AND I DO NOT KNOW SIGN LANGUAGE! I had been making up signs, lots and lots of signs, through the entire conversation. My boss wasn't trying to hold my hand she was trying to suppress my insanity.
I am telling you people, there is something incredibly wrong with me. God forbid I ever run into a guy with Tourettes' at the library. It could be really ugly!.
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