I seem to have accumulated a lot of entertaining people-related anecdotes lately. I think this is what comes of entering the world of work and serving the public. Or maybe it’s yet another perk of being autistic. I don’t know. On one hand, many of the following incidents did happen before, during, or after work. On the other, my mum has pointed out that I have the sort of aura that people stopping other people in the street immediately pick up on.
For one thing, I’ve always been susceptible to racist jibes from strangers. I’m half British, I’ve lived in this country since I was four. Yet I got it all the time from boys at secondary school. I’ve had various guys shout “ni hao” to me in the street. And then a few months ago, some boys loitering outside said school shouted “Great Wall of China!” at me on my way to work. My sides are splitting just thinking about it.
Then of course, there are people I’ve seen at work. Most of them are anywhere from normal to lovely. But of course, there are always a few who are rude about your job performance, have out-of-control children, or who just aren’t the full ticket. Like the woman who left her new loyalty card on the counter where I couldn’t see it, then came back and got all shirty with me for not rushing after her to return it. Yep. Definitely my fault.
Or the man who kept muttering Bible verses, insults towards the shop, and questions that made no sense, and then asked what was wrong with me when I didn’t follow. And kept talking about me to my colleagues but nothing to my face. Apparently I was the one with the problem. Clearly.
And it’s not just when I’m out and about, either. I was alone one evening and ended up answering the door to a young woman asking to speak to the homeowners. I said they were out, and added that we don’t take calls like this. She then said I was being patronising, and really rude treating her like a cold caller when she was trying to do her job*. In her defence, when I apologised, and explained I was autistic and hadn’t known what to say, she apologised back. Can’t complain.
Still, it’s not all frustration and rudeness. Only this week, I had a woman come into the shop looking for a book for a friend, but she couldn’t remember what it was called. Thinking she was collecting an order, I asked for “her name.” Thinking I meant the author’s name, she said she’d just check her phone. Which left me wondering why she needed to check her friend’s name on her phone…
*Whatever that was. Turning up out of the blue uninvited, I think.