While it’s no secret that the German autobahn
is one of the last places where you can drive as fast as you want, the fabled
public highways aren’t a free-for-all. Today, some sections of the autobahn
have speed limits, though great stretches remain unrestricted. And while most
of the autobahn’s driving rules will be familiar to Americans, the Germans have
unique laws and rules of conduct in place that they say help to keep high-speed
driving safe. And we probably don’t need to tell you that Germans take their
rules seriously.
Now substitute “Aspie” for “German”
and “NT spouse” for “American”, and you have a pretty good description of my
daily life.
Don’t get me wrong. I love
cars. That mutual interest was one of Steve and my immediate attractions to
each other, along with rock and roll music and (according to him) the way my
jeans fit me. When you love an Aspergian, enjoying their single interest(s)
make one’s journey much more enjoyable. His jeans were okay.
I always wonder about
couples that insist that they have no common interests. There must have been
something that initially drew them to one another.
Back to the eight rules of
the Autobahn.
I love the fifth rule “It’s
only slightly rude to flash your headlights at a driver you wish to pass.”
This so describes my hubby!
Since he is very quiet and shy in social situations, it can be startling to
hear his voice break into a discussion on, let’s say, the local economy. Often
his comment is so far off track that most people are simply startled. As long
as I keep steering the subjects into different areas every few minutes, I can
keep The Hubster’s blurts to a minimum. It’s only when there has been a steady
conversation on one topic for at least five minutes that things begin to get
tense.
I can handle slightly rude.
I have problems with obnoxious.
An older gentleman was
stating his own views on local food banks at a recent fundraiser. Those in our
group (mostly) just listened to his ideas and nodded our heads, not so much in
agreement, but to acknowledge that we heard him. Then a voice blurts out.
“Well, that’s stupid!” says
my spouse.
The gentleman stopped mid-sentence,
and being startled so, slightly spilled his drink on his shirt as he whipped
his head towards said spouse. The rest of the group turned their heads to
follow his gaze.
“Young man!” the
pontificator harrumphed. “Just what do you
know of the facts?”
Steve shifted from foot to
foot. His drinkless hand began to flap against his leg while his eyes blinked
rapidly. I am sure his blood pressure was soaring. Several uncomfortable
minutes of silence passed amongst our group. I could actually hear the gears
turning in my hubby’s mind.
“Oh look!” I exclaimed as a
waiter approached us. “It’s time to be seated for dinner!”
As we all turn to be escorted
to our various tables, I silently thank God that the stately gentleman of my
husband’s scorn is taken across the room from us.
Phew! That was a close one.
Our table fortunately held
two fellow car enthusiasts, so the rest of our evening went by pleasantly. An ‘auto
bond’ was established, and we all enjoyed our dinner. I ‘helped’ Steve eat his
ignored salmon. I am a dutiful wife.
Slightly rude I can handle. It
can always be turned into a laugh or two.
And I do love to laugh!
