Superhuman Abilities

4 Aug

Sometimes I think S has an adult form of ADD. Lately, that thought has been reinforced more and more often. Take for example the other day when she picked me up from the Go station. She had just had a run-in with P over “mashing” a spider into the welcome mat. S hadn’t eaten dinner yet so after picking me up, she began driving to the Taco Hell Bell drive through. Between us we had $10, dinner options were limited.

There we were, on our way to the drive through and S kept going on about how frustrating P can be. “P expects that you’re on the same emotional plane she’s on – if I get five tacos, will you eat one?” It happened just like that. She was in the middle of talking about P and then BAM! she was asking me about tacos. I asked her where that came from and she said she had just seen the sign advertising 5 tacos for $3.99 (we were at the drive through by that point). “Uhm, sure,” I replied.

She placed her order at the microphone and when the teenaged voice on the other end of the intercom asked if she wanted anything else, S excitedly said, “Fries Supreme, please!” I just sat there, not sure what to make of it. In the span of twenty seconds, S was able to go from a heated discussion about P to childlike excitement over tacos.

Not only does my girlfriend have ADD, she also has the incredible ability to analyse people after only knowing them a few minutes. I give you Exhibit A:

We were at brunch in the ‘burbs a few weeks ago. Our waitress that day was a timid Stephanie March look-a-like. “I know what her story is,” S told me.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, knowing that this would be good.

“She got married to a man she didn’t love right out of high school because he got her pregnant. She stayed with him because of the children. Over the years, he has come to abuse her (maybe not physically, but emotionally). Not having any real skills, she had to take the first job she could find – waittressing.”

This, she was able to put together after the waitress took our drink orders. Imagine if they’d sat down and chatted, S could have figured out her place of birth, blood type and credit history.

After finishing our food, Stephanie brought us the bill. S insisted on leaving a large tip. Why? “She’s too pretty to be a waittress.” The other girls and I howled, but S was convinced Stephanie needed the money to escape her absusive husband who she doesn’t really love.