Chimper’s World

So every morning before work, my refillable Big Gulp and I journey to 7-11 for our daily dose of Dr. Pepper. Sometimes there is a small morning rush and a little line I have to wait in to obtain rights to use this fancy machine. I find myself standing behind a fellow whom obviously suffered from some sort of mental handicap.

He kept filling his drink up, laughing, and pouring it back down the drain. I watched, thinking he was getting over-carbonated soda, or it was flat, or speculated that something was wrong – but after performing this repetitious feat about 5 times – I started to realize he was just caught in a loop that happens in the retarded community.

I decided to intervene and be friendly, because I learned from watching the Stephen King movie, "Dreamcatchers," it is never good to wrong the retarded people because they might be super powered aliens like Duddetes was. T he last thing I wanted was some monster tard trashing 7-11 and ruining my chances of obtaining Dr. Pepper.

"May I help you?" I asked politely while flashing a cutesy smile.

"DEWEY!" he yelled back at me.

Granted I have never been called a "Dewey" before, I was taken aback. I have been called a lot of things in my life but never a "Dewey." I didn’t even know what this was, and I started to think that it was a racial slur in the retarded community against us ‘Norms.’  I was pretty irate, yet I kept my cool – forcing a smile. 

I told him my name.  I said it slow so he could grasp it.   

I kinda felt happy because I bypassed the communication barrier… but he only got more and more mean to me.

"DEWEY" he yelled again…

I kinda lost my cool… I mean my name is not hard to say even for these people.  It’s 2 fucking syllables long. 

I said my name again, this time more louder to match his tone.

"DEWEY" he fired back.

Then he threw his soda on the floor and yelled, "DEWEY DEWEY DEWEY," like 20 times.

I pointed at his mess.. "BAD BAD BAD," I kept saying. "BAD BOY… VERY VERY BAD."

Then he started to cry, I felt bad… I told him "Don’t cry… it’s ok," and I gave him a pat on his back. He smiled back at me and politely took my cup and pointed at the correct soda… I was shocked.. I never knew retarded kids had ESP but I know they had special gifts and lacked in other areas. He filled me up Dr Pepper…

Then he threw it at me…

"DEWEY DEWEY DEWEY," he yelled as he ran out the store…

I had to go home and get new clothes on and shower.. I was so mad.
I don’t think I like retarded kids no more. What makes matters more worse, is when I went back to 7-11 with my new clothing the lady who works there said ‘hi Dewey’ and laughed at me.