Greenfield  (though I've already been to Turners today)

 

Wasn't Oct. 2 Gandhi's birthday? Belated remembrances of the Mahatma.

 

When I was in Turners last Thursday, something happened that continues to completely baffle me about neurotypical people. I was eating in the Chinese restaurant, and while I ate, an old Turners townie came in to pick up his order. When he was leaving, he said to me, "Hello, dear. How are you?" Here's the problem: this man is very bosom-buddy with the psychotic landlady who threw me out and destroyed my life. He was also sweet as honey to the psycho-chick tenant with underworld connections who harassed me without ceasing for 17 months. As if that weren't enough? He's the father of Matthew's best friend. His allegiances are in all the absolutely wrong places for me to have any desire to speak to him, so why does he speak? What in his non-autistic brain gives him the notion, his allegiances being what they are, that I would ever want to say one word to him for the rest of my life? Why does he think such a thing?

 

I ignored him, did not even look up at him. I see no logic in the way he behaved, no grasp of reality. And neurotypicals do this kind of thing all the time.