--by Steve Cash--
A loose definition of a person diagnosed as an "idiot savant" would include the following:
Someone who has trouble thinking clearly and grasping everyday concepts and yet may be a genius in one specific area. (Something like rain man)
Because I am inept in so many areas (fixing things, using computers, not being able to figure out which way to go on a roundabout,) I have always taken solace in the idea that in some ways I may be brilliant.
Writing, making people laugh, etc.
Whether true or not, in my mind I felt these qualities qualified me as a savant. I recently mentioned this theory to my wife. In her loving and supportive way she agreed that I was an idiot, but claimed no one has been able to find my savant side yet. I laughed at her little joke, but I was determined to make her believe that although I had very little common sense, and despite her misgivings, I was more genius then idiot. The following event removed all doubt.
Last Sunday my wife sent me to the laundromat. Truth be told I haven't been to a laundry mat in 30 years. I only went then because they had a pop machine.
(As an aside let me say in 27 years of marriage I have not done the laundry more then 3 times. I admit I have been a lazy, chauvinist slob, who took advantage of a wonderful giving wife, who did all the house work, the laundry, and the cooking.) I'm not proud but at least I'm being honest. Because of my lack of domestic skills it was not a good idea to send me to the Laundromat.
My wife had some pillows that were sopping wet from the wash, and were too wet for our dryer. She instructed me to take the pillows, put them in a large extractor, and then she would be able to dry them at home. I had to ask her to describe what a large extractor looked like of course. She said, “its real big and located at the back of the laundromat”. It seemed easy enough, but like most men I was watching the baseball game and only half listening.
Trying to partially atone for my 27 years of insensitive husbandry I took off for my destination. As I entered the building I noticed that I was the only man on the premises. There were at least 20 woman and 6 or seven children. I felt proud that I was finally helping and making things easier for my partner. I carried the sopping pillows through the hall and made my way to what I believed to be the extractor. I noticed a $4.75 price on the machine. It seemed a little high to me but I figured everything is expensive these days. I tried to open the extractor and put the pillows in. The door would not budge.
Puzzled I concluded that you have to put the money in first and the door will open. Acting on this false belief I paid the fee. When the last quarter was in I tried to open the door. No luck. Just then the machine came on and started making a loud swishing noise. Water was flying and going round and round. That's when I realized this contraption was a washing machine. I quickly attempted to open the door and stop this costly process. I had put $4.75 in the wrong machine and the wet pillows were still in my hand. Again the door would not budge so in a panic, I flagged down the manager. Before I could open my mouth the manager started chastising me. Look behind you sir, look what you did. I turned around and saw a stream of water leading from the front door to the washing machine. On top of everything else the bag I brought the pillows in had been leaking.
I had basically flooded the store. Feeling humiliated and ashamed I looked around for some sympathetic faces. Several woman and their children were laughing! The manager was not. She said she had just mopped and was about to go home. She insisted I mop up the mess and do it quickly. Although I knew I was responsible for this calamity, I asked her if she really wanted to entrust this important job to a guy who doesn't know what a washing machine looks like. Meanwhile the washing machine was still going strong courtesy of my $4.75 contribution. I told her my mistaken extractor story and prayed for some understanding. After she berated me a little longer she decided to give my money back.
She also saw the wisdom of not letting me mop. Feeling relieved and happy I realized that my pillows were still sopping wet. With the manager no longer speaking to me I asked one of the other patrons to help me locate the proper machine. She escorted me to the extractor but seemed to be giggling all the way.
I went home and my wife was pleased. The pillows were dry. She thanked me for going out of my way and praised me for following her instructions to a tee. I told her it was my pleasure. We hugged and had a pleasant afternoon.
In case you’re wondering I don’t plan to bring up the idiot- savant issue anytime in the near future.
Steve Cash is a freelance columnist for wkzo.com. He can be reached at stevecashwrites@gmail.com.
