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!