A Buildup Of Spice

(I’m on a bus tour of Eastern Canada, and so far I’ve had no reason to complain about the tour or the guide. One evening, our guide takes our party to the revolving restaurant in the CN Tower for dinner and eats with us. Note that I have Asperger’s, which means that repeated small stresses accumulate into really big ones.)

Me: *between mouthfuls* “Hmm. It’s very spicy.”

(I’m just making a comment here. I’m enjoying the spicy food, as well as the view. However, the guide seems to take this as a complaint for some reason.)

Guide: “Oh, it’s all right. I can get you something else—“

Me: “No, that’s all right. I just—“

Guide: “No, really, let me—“

(I’m starting to get really annoyed at this point, since all I want to do is eat the rest of my meal and I don’t need her constant interruptions.)

Me: “I’m not complaining!”

Guide: “No, seriously, it won’t take me a moment to—“

(By now I’ve really had enough.)

Me: “WILL YOU LEAVE ME ALONE? I AM NOT COMPLAINING ABOUT THE FOOD! I LIKE THE FOOD! I’M STILL EATING IT, SEE? JUST LEAVE ME ALONE AND LET ME FINISH MY MEAL IN PEACE!”

(I felt guilty about yelling, especially in front of the others, but at least it shut her up and I was allowed to finish eating. I have resolved never to comment on my food in public again in case somebody takes it the wrong way.)