I feel like the increase in demand for instant gratification has stripped people of the patience to communicate with me.

I had a dream this morning about getting into an altercation with two unfamiliar old ladies who insisted on communicating with me verbally through their masks. I responded, on paper, reminding them that I, too, would love to communicate seamlessly with the public, but because I dared to get sick as a child, I don’t get to do this. Think about it, I continued scribbling, you can’t deal with what I have to do 99% of the time, for five minutes. One of the ladies started bleeding at the fingertip and scribbled her response in blood, accusing me of being disrespectful, thus summoning the manager.

What a sinister bitch!

But that was a dream. In reality, I’ve had many people simply walk away from me upon learning that I can’t understand them even if they start yelling at me from behind their masks. The correct response from me is: “Fuck them.” But when it starts happening regularly, there are some days where I go, “Fuck me, right?”

I don’t like that I’m a misanthropist, but it’s hard not to be when you’re confronted with rude, ignorant people routinely. On the contrary, when strangers do something as simple as sign “thank you,” it brings me joy. This is an everyday interaction most people are accustomed to, but for me, it’s like, “Wow, you’re treating me like everybody else. You’re practically the kindest stranger I’ve interacted with all day. If not all week.”