What Did You Want Again?
We went out for ice cream.
A teenage boy stood behind the walk-up window. “May I help you?” he said, without enthusiasm.
“I’d like a cup of chocolate raspberry truffle with hot fudge,” I said. (This was before I started dieting again.)
“Okay,” said the boy. “Um, what size did you want?”
“The smallest one you have,” I said. (I was considering dieting soon.)
“Okay,” he said. He held up a cup. “Is this one okay?”
“Perfect,” I said.
“Okay,” the boy said. “What did you want again?”
“Chocolate raspberry truffle,” I said. “With hot fudge.”
“So chocolate raspberry,” he said.
“Yes,” I said.
He went away. He came back.
“And what did you want on this?” he asked.
“Hot fudge,” I said.
“Okay,” he said. He went away again.
He came back. Some hot fudge had appeared.
“Do you want whipped cream?” he asked.
“Okay,” I said.
“You do want whipped cream?”
“Sure,” I said.
He went away. He came back.
He handed me my ice cream, with whipped cream. He even remembered a spoon.
“Thank you,” I said. Then I turned to Dylan, who was next in line. “Go ahead,” I said.
“May I help you?” said the boy behind the window.
“Yeah, I want one scoop of s’mores and one scoop of graham cracker,” Dylan said.
“Okay,” said the boy. “You want one scoop of …?”
“One scoop of s’mores and one of graham cracker,” Dylan said. “And can I get hot fudge on that?”
“So one scoop of s’mores?” the boy asked.
“Yeah,” said Dylan.
The boy went away. He came back with one scoop of s’mores in a cup.
“And what else did you want?” the teenager asked.
“Graham cracker,” said Dylan.
The boy went away.
Suddenly it hit me.
“He has ADHD!” I nearly shrieked to Dylan. “This is just like talking to you!”
“No it’s not,” said Dylan, who hasn’t agreed with anything I’ve said in two years.
“It is!” I said. “Watch! This is just like talking to you!”
“No,” Dylan said. “He’s just getting my ice cream.”
“But watch!” I said. “He has to ask you twice about every single thing!”
The boy came back. “What did you want on that?” the boy asked.
“Just some hot fudge,” Dylan said.
“Hot fudge?”
“Yeah.” The teenager went away again.
Dylan didn’t seem the least bit bothered by this. To him, it was completely normal.