hug

      I'm sitting in this shithole. My parents sent me here. Why here? At least it's in Orlando. But, life isn't going the way I hoped it would. Everyone has dreams, it's what keeps us from killing ourselves. Think about it, if we knew there was no future, we could just end it today. But, after maxing out my credit cards, a bunch of fights with my family, I wound up here. Why here? Why not somewhere where I'm not surrounded by idiots. Why here? Oh, well. Anyway, I have to engage in the activities here, because it's what they want. Get up at 6 am, get my meds, workout in the gym, get the signature that verifies I worked out in the gym, go to Occupational Therapy and Speech Therapy, play stupid games like Connect Four with the idiots I live with. At least we get to go to the Y. There, I get to use the machines with real weights and interact with everyone. There's no alcohol allowed in this facility, which is bullshit. We're over the age of 21, so we're legally allowed to drink, so what the fuck?   My legal guardians also don't want me to have diet drinks, because they think it causes brain damage.

           Sometimes it feels to me like they're the one with the disability. But, see, not all neuro psyches are accurate. Everyone thinks that the results of a neuro psyche are 100 % accurate and there are no false positives. Hell, even a strept test isn't 100% accurate, so I think the Psyche doctor fucked it up. But, that's just me. The food here sucks and the majority of it is overcooked and underseasoned. They think I'm too old to sleep with a teddy bear, but who cares? I need a clean home? For what? For who?  No one's coming into my room except your stupid staff. Oh, but the state has requirements. What happened to the state needing a warrant to enter our home? Oh, that doesn't apply to us since we're disabled. Remember the Fair Housing Act? No, what the fuck is that? At least these assholes have transportation requests. I request to go to the same places every week: church and improv. And, hallelujah, the majority of the people who drive me to church, don't believe in my religion and therefore, they leave me at church with the congregation and I get time away from this fucking community. Yea!!!! They stay with us during improv comedy, but they let me make my suggestions like you're an aluminum Howdy Doody who can only speak in palendromes. But, then we have to come back to the fucking idiots. 

           Then, the thing happens, which has happened in the past and I know will happen in the future: The women who work at this place, sitting behind their computers, get up and hug each other. I hate it when this happens. Then, they both continue working on their S.O.A.P. Notes. But, the one woman asks, “Hey, Bob, what's going on?” So, I pause, think about it and tell her I don''t think it's okay to tell her what's going on, because I'll get in trouble. “In trouble? For what?” For telling her what's going on. She tells me I might get in trouble, but she doubts it. Then, I told her I was jealous. “Jealous?” She looked around. “That means someone else has something you want.” She looked around. “Man, nobody has anything, so there's nothing to be jealous about?

           And I tell her  yes, they do. “Man, what you want that somebody else got?” Then, I told her she gave that other woman a hug. “Yea, that's true, I gave my friend a hug, big deal.” I asked, “That's your friend?”  “Yea, that's my friend.” Then, I told her it was a big deal. “It is?” she asked. “It's a big deal I gave my friend a hug?” I told her it was. “But I like hugs,” she said. I told her I liked hugs, too. “Yeah, see, you like hugs, too, so it's no big deal? I told her it was a big deal to me that she gave her friend a hug. “Why? Why can't I give my friends hugs?” Then, I told her it was because I didn't get one. “Man, you just want a hug? That's it? That's the whole problem?  Man, that's easy. Whew. Man, that's the easiest problem I've had to solve all day..” Then, I told her that was only part of the problem. She asked what the other part of the problem was and I told her if I told her I'd get into a lot of trouble. She said to try telling her anyway. I told her it's because that woman got a hug and I didn't get a hug. How come they got a hug and I didn't get one? What the hell did I do wrong? And I told her how in high school these two women gave each other hugs and I wanted a hug too, but I didn't get one and why not? “High school. Whew.  That's a really long time ago. Look, this is no big deal . . “ and I told her it was a big fucking deal to me. “No, it's not. Here, you can get a hug, too.” And I asked her, “Really?” And she said “Yeah, really.” And I gave her a long hug and she squeezed me and it felt great. I was happy. I got to get loving, too. “

           “Man, you can get a hug any time you want, all you gotta do is as.”

*

           Then, a few weeks later, they had me volunteering at a kid's day care program. You know? Both parents have to go to work, so they drop their little ones off at a day care. So, I read them the book, The Butter Battle Book by Dr. Seuss, but it didn't go well. The kids weren't interested. They were running all over the place, crying, hitting each other. Normal kids stuff. Then, the speech pathologist told me the book was too complicated and I should try an easier book like, One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. It didn't have a plot, but the kids seemed to enjoy it and everyone was happy with me and I was happy, so I gave the speech pathologist a hug and she said, “No, wait. What are you doing?” So, I told her I was sorry, she paused, and thought. Then, she asked me what I was trying to do and I was afraid I was in trouble again because of hugs. She told me she wasn't mad at me, she just wanted to know what I was trying to do. So, I told her I was giving her a hug and I was sorry. 

           She thought, again, then said, “No, wait. Think about it, why do you think people are getting upset with you when you're giving them hugs?”

           So, I told her the reason women must be getting upset with me is because they have breasts and they don't want me to squeeze their breasts with my chest.

           “What? Why? No, I have breasts and I still like hugs. That's not why. It's because you're not asking. You're just giving these random people hugs. So, you can hug people, but you have to ask first.”

           So, I said, “But, what if they say, 'no'.”

           “Then, you can't give them a hug. But, most people like hugs. Again, you can get hugs, but you have to ask first.”

           So, I tried that and women did give me hugs, lots of hugs, after I asked them and then I didn't feel lonely. I didn't feel like shit. I felt good that day.