Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Note To Self: Don't Leave House With Laryngitis

A few summers ago, I went to Musikfest with Chanin. Musikfest, is a giant music festival that takes over downtown Bethlehem for about ten days. You can listen to just about any kind of music, and the food is not bad either.

This particular time, I didn't want to go. I had laryngitis. I could not speak one word, not even a whisper. Chanin and I both know how to spell in sign language, so she convinced me it would be OK. I reluctantly agreed to go.

Once at Musikfest we went to grab dinner, the place was packed. There were a few seats open at a table with a rabbi, and a few of his friends. Chanin asked if it would be alright for us to join them, because seating was so limited. We had never seen these people in our life. I nodded my head hello, and they had no idea that I did not have a voice.

We enjoyed our food in silence. The rabbi and his friends, continued in their own conversations. All of a sudden Chanin taps her watch and says, "It's time to get you back to the institution!" The rabbi and friends look at us intently, I open my mouth to object, and all that comes out is a "squeak". Then Chanin proceeds to say, "Don't start to get violent, I will give you that tranquelizor by injection, you know I have done that before." Then she tells the other people, "She's prone to voilence if she doesn't get her meds on time. I need to get her back to the psychiatric unit quickly." I'm waving my hands like crazy trying to communicate, to sign, and the strangers at our table are quickly gathering their things to run away.

They were scared. If you could have seen the looks on their faces. Everything I did just made the situation worse. They quickly left, and Chanin laughed and laughed. I didn't think it was funny until about three days later.


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