Thought For Food

by Yeshiva Guy

He moves disjointedly. His right arm juts out from his elbow at the oddest angle. Where the veiny wrist meets his hand, it seems to be in a permanent 90 degree angle of sorts, pointing directly at you.

He wears shorts. Always. Thin brown, hairy legs stick out, and exaggerate the stiffness of his stride. The beaten gray Reeboks he wears are covered with soot and grime and white and orange and all sorts of fearsome materials and unappetizing colors.

His face is fixed in the cruelest of leers. There is nothing untoward about this leer, though, or for that matter about this person. No criminal aspect. Then too, he doesn’t play favorites.

Everyone who walks into the bakery is graced with this passive examination; an exam that takes place entirely through the optics of autism.

It was awkward, that first time.

I remember walking in and spotting him and his leer; he was clad in his standard navy shorts and sky blue tee, and was staring at me from the spacious rear section of the store. On the tee, numerous flour stains were in evidence, betraying an intimacy with the baking process that made me queasy. Strolling around the patron’s part of bakery, I perused the assorted wicker platters filled to the brim with various baked goods, politely pretending not to notice him. A relative of the owner, no doubt. Here today and gone tomorrow.

Today, months later, he still stares. It’s still awkward.

Now, I move in and out of the establishment with purposeful movements; I’m a busy bochur. Sometimes I avoid him, and his gruesome glare. Sometimes not. When he is there, anywhere in sight, I’m somehow especially careful wielding the sticky tongs and selecting my sugared pastry confections. It’s in and out, these days.

But sometimes, when I have time, I wonder what it is like for him. The faceless multitudes who invade his space, day in, day out. The thousands who stare back at him; the hundreds who have no time for him and snap at his clumsy attempts to hand them change. What does he think of them? Like his look, is the leer betraying his leeriness- of them?

Is it, after all, awkward… For him?