Is He Finished With That? – My primary pet peeve.

The company I worked for used to have an annual off-site meeting.  One year we had it at Longwood Gardens, which is a local attraction featuring – what else – gardens; big, beautiful gardens.  The plan was to have our meeting in the morning, have lunch at the garden’s restaurant, then enjoy the gardens for the rest of the day.

At lunch, our waitress went around the table, asking each of us if we were having the vegetable or fruit salad—except for when she got to me.  She asked the person to my right, Kathy, “Will he be having fruit or vegetables?”

Now, if there’s one thing I can’t stand, I mean absolutely hate, it’s when someone talks past me, about me, as if I wasn’t there.  I mean, this lady wouldn’t even look at me.  Poor Kathy just looked at me like, “Why is she asking me what you want to eat?”

Well, I just let her slide.  I looked at her straight in the eye, smiled, and said, “I’ll have the fruit, please.” I figured that by talking for myself, she’d realize, “Hey, the poor cripple can speak!”

Unfortunately, though, it just didn’t sink in for this woman.  After a while, she came back to collect the salad dishes, and upon getting to me, she looked strait at Kathy and said, “Is he finished with that?” Once again, Kathy looked at me like, “Can you believe this woman?!” And once again I looked directly at the waitress and said a little more sternly than the last time, “Yes, I am finished with that, and I would appreciate it if you would address me directly from now on, and not the people around me.”

Well, she must of felt about three inches high, and could not apologize enough.  She asked me my name, and upon telling her, she introduced herself—I think it was Mary or something.  From that point on, she was just dying to address me directly.  I mean, it was just like we were buds: “How is everything George?” “Great Mary, thank you.” “Do you need anything else, George?” “No Mary, I think I have everything I need.” “Well, you just let me know if you do, George.” “Thank you Mary, I will.” Etc., etc.

Everyone else in my department was looking at me like, “Now what are you up to?!” When Mary walked away, my manager asked me, “Do you know her?” I said, “Oh yeah, that’s Mary.  We’re tight…  Actually, we just met…” Kathy was just looking at me, shaking her head and cracking up.

I really hope that Mary learned a little life lesson that day.  Somehow, however, I have the feeling that the next severely disabled person she waits on won’t be addressed directly until she’s told about it again.  I think I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt, though, and won’t place the same intelligence limitations on her, as she placed on me.