Assburger

Several years ago, it was brought to my attention - by way of one of my dad’s friends, a guy I considered a shallow dickhole - that I might have Asperger’s Syndrome. My first reaction was the reaction many have when first encountering the name.

I am not an ASSBURGER!

Once my mind reemerged from the toilet, I was told what that was. High-developmental autism. In Lay-speak, anyone who functions on a near-social level, demonstrates high intelligence, but often acts inappropriate due to a lack of understanding for social cues. Case in point, laughing at a funeral…or commenting on a “bodacious rack” when the woman in question is right there.

The basis for this third party opinion was the guy’s own personal experience with the condition; his son labored through it. Of course, when I first heard the accusation (and indeed, I considered it such), I refuted it. But…

Being the ever-neurotic sort that I am, I took a mind’s eye gaze at ghost’s of social life’s past.

…5th grade, I was laying down on a set of bleachers. The friend of my first crush - well, first “acknowledged” crush - came up to me. She asked if I liked the girl. Most would freeze and give a reluctant reply. Mine was a clear and emphatic, “NO!”

Rest is history.

…Junior year of high school, prior to a dance, I noticed a girl sitting. She was wearing a very lovely dress. I thought I would work my supposed magic and compliment her. It didn’t come out right.

“Strangely enough, you look elegant today,” I said with a proud smile.

I was lucky I didn’t get slapped.

…Senior year, a friend of mine and I were walking down the locker-lacquered hallway. A couple of girls were sitting on the floor next to one such locker. One piped up.

“Hi! My name’s Jenny!” she said, arm raised.

I reached into my pocket and pulled something out.

“You are worthy enough to shake my comb.”

She recoiled the hand in horror.

Hey, I thought it was funny at the time.

…Working the usher’s podium at a movie theater some years later, a man came in - dressed to the nines - with two aging “angels”. He also sported a blond Miami Vice-like mullet. He leaned in as if to give me his ticket, then quickly withdrew it, did some type of douche-y pirouette, followed by a “tada!” stance.

My exact words: “Enough with the pimp thing, just gimme the damn ticket.”

Needless to say, he complained.

…Flashforward a five more years, a few of us went to fetch a friend at the mall. We were talking up a storm. The conversation segued from farming to the unauthorized intrusion of male sheep.

We were in the kids section.

…Present Day.

A man called to make a reservation. He asked how I’m doing. My exact reply was “Hello.” For some reason, I always felt stumped whenever that question was asked, not sure why. He, then, thought he had a bad connection. After that confusion subsided, I saw about dealing with him quickly.

He called back to rant that I was the rudest person he’d ever dealt with, and that he’d complained about my curtness to my managers before.

My exact reply was, “Okay.”

He said he called ‘em like he saw ‘em, then hung up.

The common traits ascribed to people with Asperger’s Syndrome are monotone voices, wild hand gestures, obsessive hobbies and pursuits, and many tend to lean towards sci-fi as a method of escape. Many are also described as frighteningly smart.

I was never diagnosed with this form of autism. The category didn’t exist when I was a kid. While I can be pegged with some of the traits, there are some glaring differences. I inflect quite a bit, I consider myself fairly sociable, I’m a bit of a tard, and my hand gestures…well…I’m working on ‘em.

Point being…

Can I really claim this as an excuse? Or am I just an “assburger”?

I’ll ask the next girl I like as I flip her off in gym class.

Yes, that really happened too.

Tags: Asperger, ass, burger

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