March 11th, 2008

Hugh Smile

(no subject)

Iatroeco-oxyglossophilia  Part 3
           Tuesday afternoon.
           OK, I'm feeling a bit better, walking around the halls so I don't get clots in my legs or anything. Having recovered somewhat from my emergency hysterectomy, I saw him again, he of the throwing arm against mine enemies. I overheard somebody call him "doctor" and I dragged my IV pole over to him and gave him my biggest smile.
           "Thank you so much for helping me. I've been fighting against that sort of bigotry all my life."
           "Christ on a cracker, you make me sound like Martin Luther King or somebody." He was wearing a Velvet Underground T shirt with the banana on it so I knew he had good taste in music.
           "I like your T shirt. Lou Reed is so cool."
           "Um, yeah." He looked really distracted and annoyed so I shut up. He started writing in some folders.
           I could get a better look at him and see he was quite handsome in an intense rumpled sort of way. The only two flaws were a receding chin (which may have been why he looked like he only shaved about once a week or less) and a certain hardness around the eyes which I thought was meanness initially but then I thought he just looked pissed off and tired. Gorgeous blue eyes though.
          I accidentally said "gorgeous blue eyes" out loud. Quietly, but not quietly enough. His head whipped up and he looked really startled.
           "Sorry about that.  I have a neurological disorder. The part of my brain that censors what I say--"
           He cut me off. "Asperger's, isn't it?"
           It was my turn to be startled. "How'd  you know that?! You're not my doctor. You look at my file?"
           "I don't even know what your name is. I observed certain things."
           "I hate it. Having it. I'm not talking about being different, I wear being different like a damn badge. I hate being pitied for it. And the damn name sounds like a Beavis and Butthead line." I did a Beavis voice "Heh heh  heh mm heh. Shut up ass burger." He looked like he was trying not to laugh. "Only stupid people think everyone being the same is a good idea anyway. I'm going on too much, aren't I?"
           He smiled very faintly. "You are a very interesting person. Greg House."
           "Karen Jerome." Quickly I shook hands with him left-handed so he would not have to shift the cane he held in his right hand.
           "So you don't go in for the jock type like a lot of women?"
           "Aw, hell no, when people start talking sports the phrase 'rat's ass' springs to my mind. The only athlete I really like is Lance Armstrong and that's 'cause he's an atheist just like me and any guy who can lose a nut and make jokes about it, my kinda guy!"
           He snickered. "Listen, I've got to go to work. I'd like to come in and talk to you on my break."
           "OK, my room number--"
           "I'll look it up, Karen."
           "All right, I'll see you later."
                A/Ns: I have been told those are band logos on House's T shirts but I can never identify any of them on the show. House seems to me like he'd be a Velvet Underground guy, and I chose the Andy Warhol banana graphic because I was having a little Freudian fun.
                           I actually do have Asperger's.
                           Karen Jerome is NOT my real name.
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