Skip to main content

Mile High Dumb

They say that flying is a risky business, sky diving is less risky than flying next to a horny bloke.
When I was 23, I was a shy, slim, blonde Irish lass. I was caught in the middle seat beside what looked like a smart business man in his 30's.  With people who don't know sign language, communications is through smoke signals and interpative dance or just a bog standard notebook and pen. He kept trying to talk to me I kept telling him I couldn't hear and to write things down and so the usual boring chit chat went on for the entire flight

As we neared Heathrow, he started asking for my number. I kept trying to throw him off by telling that I would only be in London for a few days with family, no time for anything else. He was really persistent. In the end I looked at him and said there is no point in giving you my number because I am deaf ( this was before smartphones and I wasn't a big texter) God's honest truth, he wrote this on the notebook.

OMG YOU'RE DEAF. I THOUGHT YOU WERE FOREIGN

How does that even work? How could I possibly understand written English and speaking English but not be able to understand spoken English? and if I can't do that, how the hell is he going to be able to talk to me on the phone?!! Perhaps not that smart after all.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Life Under the Knife

Hello, is it fun you're looking for? I suppose I'd better explain myself before things get weird. < Last year I was in hospital for over 3 months. My Dad visited me every day with coffee and cakes (thank you Dad)!!!. We were chatting one day when I said "Do you remember people telling Mam that she should write a book?" ( sadly she took the stairway to heaven 3 years ago). I said to my Dad "Can you imagine the book we could have written together?" You see the condition that we both suffer from is called Neurofibromatosis type 2 (NF2). We were both in and out of hospital pretty much all of our lives. I was thinking to myself that I don't have enough for a book, but maybe a blog. The craziest things happen to me and around me. What's one thing I do have? Stories so crazy, they'd make you question reality. I was pretty much completely blind, so I had nothing to do but think. I tried to remember the 20 years worth of stories and I have a me

Walk the Circle( Lines are so last year!)

I was never very good at lines, doing lines in school, drawing straight lines, cutting a straight line, colouring between the lines, walking in a straight line ( walking in a circle was more my thing) driving between the lines on the road do a line of shots(and still be standing by the last one) you get the picture Getting a line (canula) into my veins is along the same lines. My veins are as contrary as the rest of me! When they see a needle, they just collapse or go into hiding. I am notoriously hard to stick a needle into, it usually takes dozens of tries. I leave the doctors looking like a golf course. Unfortunately, I don't get a pint at the nineteenth hole unless it's blood. On the occasion that I was having several tests on the same day that required a line, a whole team of doctors and nurses came around, so that when one failed, another had a go. This was about 10 people. The whole team  inspected all four limbs. I felt like a sushi roll or something! Then as if b

War of the Restrooms

Nobody expects the Spanish inquisition.... or to get into a bar fight in a disabled bathroom! There are certain types of women you do no get on the wrong side of or indeed ask them to step aside. After 5 months in the slammer, (hospital), I was parched, my mouth was a dry as the Sahara. I couldn't walk anymore, so I basically crawled to a watering hole in Dublin's city centre. From my now waist high perspective, I managed to get the barman's attention and procured a glass of the life giving gold stuff. A friend put on some beer goggles and joined me in the land of pink elephants (those elephants were tap dancing if I remember correctly!). You know the movie, inside I'm dancing? Well inside I was at a bloody rave! As my friend and I got down to the important matters and traded war stories about doctors, she could hear an ear-splitting voice screeching from the other side of the pub. She assured me it was one of those voices you don't f*ck with! A drink or 3 can