Thursday, April 26, 2007

Bacon!

I think I killed the Subway sandwich guy.
Figuratively. (I'm autistic, not psychotic).

"How can you stand to live with him?" he asked my mother.

Not the most subtle of social cues, but I think I got it.

See, none of you have ever talked to me. Well LindaBeth and Grandma have, but most of you have only read my blog. I get reader compliments for being mature or well-spoken. But, as I've said before, I'm really just well-edited.

What you can't see is how I talk. And I talk. And I talk. I wake up talking to myself and it keeps going until I fall asleep talking to myself (or the tv). I talk with my hands. I talk in parentheticals. I talk in sidebars. I talk in tangents.

It all started innocently enough that day. My mom took me into Subway for lunch. She asked what I wanted to eat. I scanned the menu and.... an obsession was born.

Bacon!

I liked bacon before I saw the menu that day, but that day I had to have it. I mean I HAD to have it. Bacon! I could only see bacon, smell bacon, say bacon.

"What do you want to eat?"
Bacon
"They don't have a bacon sandwich."
Can I have tuna and bacon?
"No. You can't have tuna and bacon. Ick."
Can I have just bacon?
"No, would you like..."
Bacon! Without the bread?
"How about...."
Bacon. Bacon? Bacon!
"I asked, they don't offer a BLT."
Can I have just the B then?
"I don't think so."
But they sell it. I see it. They HAVE bacon.
"How about roast beef?"
With bacon?

Bacon, bacon, bacon!

I honestly don't remember what I got to eat that day. I know it didn't end up having bacon on it, because the Subway sandwich guy couldn't handle it. Mom was laughing and trying to get him to tell us what kind of sandwich that he could make would have bacon on it - but he just couldn't get there. I think he was overwhelmed. I hope he didn't suffer any permanent trauma.

Unfortunately, he couldn't know that most of my conversations are like this. They aren't tantrums, more like enthusiastic begging or rambling. And a little bit of perseveration - when I get stuck on one topic.

It sounds something like this:

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Stephen, Subway sandwich jobs are designed like human assembly lines. When a wrench is thrown into them, they stop working.

When he was your age, my son used to go into Subway and order things with a French accent, using some French words (that I had naively taught him, not realizing his nefarious intent). He would confuse the heck out of the Subway assembly machine. Most of the workers were cute high school girls, and my son was always somewhat of a flirt, so he loved the attention.

He said that if he were to do that again, he would go in and announce his love of Jerry Lewis. That is his one regret.

Anonymous said...

Wow, Stephen, you sound exactly like me in your personality! I'm a 12 year old boy with AS from Texas, and I'm like you in a lot of ways!

Anonymous said...

Wow, Stephen, you sound exactly like me in your personality! I'm a 12 year old boy with AS from Texas, and I'm like you in a lot of ways!

Anonymous said...

And I also have Asperger's.

The Sesquipedalian said...

I hope you don't mind, I posted a link to this post. My son has Aspergers and I mentioned perseveration on my blog and I remembered this post from some time back and thought it was a good example. Here's a link to the blog post where I link your post:

http://confessionsofasesquipedalian.blogspot.com/2009/10/snails-wood-pulp-and-bacon.html

The Sesquipedalian said...

I hope you don't mind, I posted a link to this post. My son has Aspergers and I mentioned perseveration on my blog and I remembered this post from some time back and thought it was a good example. Here's a link to the blog post where I link your post:

http://confessionsofasesquipedalian.blogspot.com/2009/10/snails-wood-pulp-and-bacon.html