Walk Like An Allistic

Me: ooh lookit that big weirdo plant

Me: I love that guy!

Me: (takes a million pictures)

Me: I love succulents so much.

Me: I think I’m becoming the main character in that novel I wrote.

Spouse: …the wealthy heiress gay teenaged boarding-school student whose loved ones were systematically murdered?

Me: Okay, not JUST like her.

Me: But I’m starting to think flowers are kind of boring, just like she did.

Me: Flowers are all, “Hey, look – I’m PRETTY!”

Me: Like, whatever. I live in L.A. Half the humans here are models. And most of the rest of them used to be.

Me: I’m kind of over pretty.

Me: I love succulents ’cause they don’t settle for being cute.

Me: This weird purple flower has velvety-red leaves! And a big creepy tongue sticking out of the middle of its face!

Spouse: Uh…

Me: “Hey – suck my stamen, rosebuds!”

Spouse: We’d better get moving or we’ll be late.

Me: Yeah, okay.

Me: (catches sight of myself in window of building)

Me: Whoa.

Me: I do walk funny, don’t I?

Me: I mean, I knew I did, but I guess it feels different now that everybody’s out and about more.

Me (still looking at reflection as I walk): Dang.

Me: It’s an autism thing. Not, like, officially, but a lot of us do it.

Spouse: Your walk is fine. I like your walk.

Me (experimenting): Here, let’s see. Maybe if I kind of stabilize my core and tilt my hips forward a little…

Me (stepping gingerly): How does it look now? Am I walking normal now?

Spouse: Yes, but you look like you’re trying to walk normal.

Me: Great.

Me (still mincing like a neurotypical): This is exhausting.

Spouse: Don’t change your walk.

Me: Why not? 

Spouse: I like being able to pick you out in a crowd.

Me: (thinks about it)

Me: (starts walking my own kind of normal again)

Me: If a weird purple succulent flower could walk, I bet it would look like this.

Spouse: Absolutely.

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